The Goblet's Revenge
by duskglow
Summary: Harry snaps at the beginning of the first task, and stops caring about anything, including whether he lives or dies. The Goblet decides to take matters into its own "hands". Toss in a mildly depressed dragon, and things get very interesting very fast. Didn't start out as a crack-fic, kinda turned into one.
1. Harry Stops Caring!

A/N before we start this story (and I will not usually put them at the top of chapters, but I am going to make an exception just this once).

This is kind of a crack-fic. It started out semi-serious, but around chapter 5 I just kind of gave up, and by the end it's completely off the wall silly. I left plenty of room for a sequel someday, so some minor plot points aren't resolved. If you don't like silly or stupid humor, you might not like this. If you do, it careens off the wall, crashes into the fourth wall, bounces back off, and finally settles down in a chaise lounge with a nice vodka. You've been warned. The first five chapters are very different in tone than the last five.

That said, there are a few utterly unique things in this story - you will not see them anywhere else, and if you do, I came up with them. I hope they are to your liking. Feel free to use them. Give credit if you can.

I hope you enjoy this story.

On with the show.

Start of Story

Harry walked out, shaking just a little, into the stadium, where all of his classmates – friends and enemies alike, though it seemed that there were more enemies than friends – were sitting watching him about to go to his certain death watching a dragon he wasn't prepared to face. The dragon sat there, huffing, steam coming out of its huge nostrils – but there was also a... curiosity... to its gaze?

As Harry walked closer, in a haze of fear, he thought about how he got to this place. He was sent to live with his relatives, the Dursleys, who hated him and all aspects of magic. No one came to check on him for years, even though the letters were address to the "cupboard under the stairs" - hadn't anyone seen _that_? And then every year at Hogwarts, he was faced with almost certain death, managing to escape it mostly by the skin of his teeth, and as McGonagle would say, sheer dumb luck. And now he was in a contest that he was entered into against his will, being three years too young, and everyone who he thought was with him was now his declared enemy. He could even see the blinking "Potter Stinks" badges from where he was standing.

Something snapped inside him. He no longer cared if he won, he no longer cared if he played, he no longer cared if he defeated Voldemort, he no longer cared if he kept his magic, he no longer even cared if he lived. And he stopped where he was, about fifty yards from the dragon, and he sat down.

The crowd started to murmur, the Slytherins especially booing and throwing things over the bleachers at him.

Scene Break

The Goblet of Fire was a powerful magical artifact. So powerful, in fact, that it had gained a small degree of sentience, after it had had its fill and more of the ambient magic of Hogwarts and more kept coming. It was aware of how Harry had come to be entered into the tournament, and because of the magical binding with Harry, it knew how Harry felt about fulfilling the contract. It was a powerful artifact, but Magic itself was not without compassion, and in all of its years as an artifact, it had never encountered a situation such as this, where someone was entered against their will with the sole purpose of killing them.

It didn't take long for the Goblet to decide to rectify one of the few injustices that it had direct control over. It acted.

Scene Break

 _Harry_

Harry heard a small, whispering voice in his head.

 _Harry, listen to me._

"Who are you?", Harry half said, half thought.

 _I am the artifact you know as the Goblet of Fire._

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you. You're partly responsible for getting me into this mess in the first place."

 _You're right_ , the Goblet said with a faint tone of regret in its voice. _I have recently gained sentience due to the magic of the castle, and I know how you got entered. This is an injustice, and I am going to fix it right this moment. You are no longer bound by the magical contract – the one who entered you is bound in your place. I am already removing their magic._

"Who entered me?", Harry said with some curiosity.

 _I don't know_ , the Goblet said. _They were, how do you magic-users say, oh yes, disillusioned. But you will know the next time they need to perform magic and can't._

"So what do I do now?", Harry asked.

 _You could walk away right now_ , the Goblet responded, with a note of humor in its voice. _But you don't have to. Want to have some fun with this?_

Harry grinned. "What do you have in mind?"

The Goblet told him.

Scene break

After about five minutes of dialogue with the Goblet, Harry finally stood up. The crowd was getting extremely restless, with some Gryffindors beginning to pick fights with the Slytherins, who were cunningly responding with insults to the Gryffindors' ancestry, intelligence, and hygiene. Ravenclaws had pulled their books out to get some probably completely unneeded studying in, and the Hufflepuffs just sat there being loyal. They weren't sure to what they were being loyal, but their job in Hogwarts was to be loyal, and bugger it all, they were going to be loyal, and they worked hard at it.

He walked slowly towards the dragon, and smiled a toothless smile, as the Goblet had told him that the dragons saw any show of teeth as an aggressive move. He stopped about ten yards from the dragon, well within the roasting zone, but knew that it was a show of trust. And he spoke.

"Hello, lady dragon", he spoke in parseltongue.

The dragon cocked her head curiously, but did not respond.

"I know you can hear and understand me, lady dragon. I will not attempt to steal your eggs. In return, I ask that you hear me out and not injure me in any way."

The dragon still did not respond, but nodded her head slowly, and lowered her head so that her eyes were level with Harry's. A little steam escaped from her nose, and Harry gulped. But the Goblet's suggestions were clear, and he had nothing to lose except his life, which he no longer cared about. So he plowed forward.

"I know that they brought you to this place against your will, lady Dragon. I was entered into this competition against my will, as well. I don't want to be here, and I really don't care if I win or not. Honestly, I don't care whether I live or die. But all these people are here for a show, and it's a show that I want to give them. So how do you feel about showing all of these people exactly how you feel about being brought here with your precious clutch of eggs?"

The dragon's lips curled into a feral smile.

Harry smiled as well. He hesitantly reached out and rubbed his very small (in comparison) hand against the side of her snout, and she closed her eyes for just a little bit at the contact.

"Asperanth."

Harry's hand paused as the dragon spoke. "What?"

"Asperanth, little one. That is my name. Guard it well. We do not usually tell two-legs our names. They are sacred to us."

Harry smiled, a real smile this time. "I promise, lady Asperanth. My name is Harry."

She nodded, then turned and looked at the chains that were staked to the ground, then at her eggs.

"Your idea pleases me, little Harry. But as you can see, I am forced to participate, just as you are. I fear that if I were to cause trouble for the other two-legs, they would destroy my eggs."

Harry shook his head.

"Lady Asperanth, they will not destroy your eggs. In our culture, dragon eggs are very valuable. Even one dragon egg would pay the salary of one of your 'keepers' for a year. Now they might attempt to destroy you, but you are a mighty dragon."

She sighed, a huff of steam escaping from her snout.

"That may be, young one, but they have captured me, have they not?"

Harry nodded.

"They have. If I set you free, what will you do?"

"What can I do, little one? They have my eggs. They are more precious to me than they are to you. How would you feel if they took your young and held them hostage so you could perform in a... circus?" She huffed the last word.

Harry frowned. He saw her point.

"I have an idea", Harry said. "May I touch your eggs?"

Asperanth nodded, if a little hesitantly.

He conjured a large bag. "This bag will not last more than a few hours, but it should be plenty long enough for you to put your eggs somewhere safe. I am going to put cushioning charms on your eggs, put the eggs in the bag, and then remove your chains. You may then go wherever you choose, free from your 'keepers'."

"As you say, little one. But one of those eggs does not belong. Please leave it out."

Harry then set about doing exactly as he said. Finally there was a bag, full of cushioned eggs, and the dragon had been released – but he had released her in such a way that no one had noticed, though the keepers were obviously very angry at his treatment of her eggs. They could not enter the arena, though, as the competition had not ended.

"Hold still, young one. I will not hurt you."

Asperanth lifted one talon and gently touched Harry's forehead. His scar pulsed with pain, and then he suddenly felt far lighter than he had ever felt, full of power and energy.

"You had a shade of darkness in your scar, little one. I removed it and replaced it with the Mark of the Dragon. All dragons, anywhere, will see this mark and know that you are our friend. Thank you, little Harry. I will not forget you, nor what you have done for me."

And with that, the dragon took flight, She flew over to the bleachers where the professors were standing, and hit them all with a small puff of flame. Just enough flame to singe Dumbledore's beard). While the judges were patting down their clothing to put out the flames, she stuck up one of her middle talons at her keepers, then, the bag of eggs gripped in the other talon, she flew off into the distance.

The stadium was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Harry calmly walked over to the golden egg and picked it up. He walked back to the tent, but before he entered the tent, he stopped, looked up at the crowd, and with a sneer, gave them the two finger salute. Then as the crowd roared with a combination of approval and great offense, carrying his treasure, he walked to the tent and off the field.

A/N If you like this story, please review. I am not holding the next chapter "hostage", as it were, but I am human and knowing people enjoy it would give me much motivation to write more of the story. How does Harry handle the next tasks? What is the fallout from his "performance"? Will he ever see Asperanth again? If you review, there's a greater chance of finding out then there would be otherwise. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this little story, even if I never expand it past this.

If you want to take this story and expand it, please, feel free. I'd find it interesting to see what others do with this beginning.

Update 7/23/16: Made a spelling correction and a few minor, non-story-affecting changes.

Update 3/18/17: Updated beginning note.


	2. Umm Not So Fast There

Disclaimer: You think I could make money off of THIS?

Harry walked into the tent, oblivious to both the booing and cheering coming from the stands. On one bed, he saw Fleur Delacour, fairly badly burnt and being treated by a medi-witch, and on another, he saw Victor Krum, with most of his clothes burnt off, singed hair and eyebrows, and what appeared to be a broken leg. Cedric appeared to be the best off, but he was lying unconscious while another medi-witch was tending to him.

Madame Pomfrey came bustling up to him.

"Oh, you poor dear, how did you get injured? It doesn't look like anything's wrong", she said, looking more and more puzzled as she examined him.

"I'm not injured. Nothing happened."

"Not injured? Why, that can't be! Those are dragons out there!", she tutted as she busily tried to find something, anything, wrong with him. "I swear on Merlin's left testicle, I don't understand how they could put children in these competitions... I knew we'd have people getting hurt!"

"Well, I'm not hurt, Madame, the dragon was as gentle as could be, so if you will pardon me..."

"Gentle! How...?"

"If you just stick around for a bit I'm sure you'll find out everything right about..."

At that very moment, all of the judges strode quickly into the tent, murder on the face of Karkaroff, Disappointed Look #3 on Dumbledore's face, and oddly, Mme. Maxine's too, and Ludo Bagman just looked utterly pissed off. Dumbledore's beard was singed, and all of them had slightly red faces and partly singed clothing due to the parting shot of the dragon. Barty Crouch was supposed to be the fifth judge, but no one could find him, and the task must go on.

"... now." Harry sighed. "How can I help you gentlemen... and lady", he said, in a bored tone, while affectedly buffing his fingernails on his shirt and blowing on them.

Bagman sputtered. "What is the meaning of... whatever it is you did out there? We lost a perfectly good dragon _and_ her eggs, the bloody dragon shot flame at us, apparently at your command, and what was with that two-finger salute at the end?" The other judges nodded in agreement.

Harry just looked at them all incredulously. "Professor Dumbledore, we need to talk. Now. And in private. Madame Maxine and Karkaroff, I don't know if you noticed, but each one of you have injured students. Perhaps you should pay them some attention rather then standing here demanding an explanation you have no right to. And Mr. Bagman, if I never see you again, it will be too soon."

Ludo Bagman stood there, again, sputtering. "I... I will not be treated this way by a mere student!"

Harry smiled, with no trace of amusement in his voice. "You just were. Now scram. Don't you have some Goblins to appease?"

"Wha... how did you..."

Harry waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Shoo... oh no."

Harry sighed as his day just got worse. While Ludo Bagman started to slink away, and a thoroughly shamed Karkaroff and Madame Maxine slunk off as well to tend to their injured students, the unmistakable gaudy figure of Rita Skeeter came closer.

"Harry! Our readers want a quote from you! How did you make that dragon just give you the egg? And why did you set her free?"

Harry looked at her disinterestedly.

"Why yes, Miss Skeeter, I would absolutely love to give you a quote for your readers."

Rita smiled predatorily and leaned in, her "Quick Quotes" quill trembling with anticipation as it hovered over the notepad.

"Rita Skeeter is an unregistered beetle animagus."

The smile vanished off her face like it was never there, and she turned white. "What? How did you...?" her voice trailed off as she looked over at Dumbledore and saw his face.

"Harry, I assume you can back this accusation up?"

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Can, can't, whatever. Check for yourself."

Dumbledore looked her in the eye, and his face turned thunderous. Gone was the kindly, grandfatherly Dumbledore, and in his place was the man who defeated Grindelwald. Faster than the eye could follow, he produced his wand and stunned her. He then wrote a note on a piece of paper, made a portkey out of it, placed it on her still body, and triggered it. She disappeared.

"Professor?", Harry said. He knew that there would be a reaction, but didn't expect it to be quite that... violent.

Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Not here, Harry." His eyes widened. "Harry, if I were you, I would turn around right now before your friend here does serious bodily injury."

Harry got halfway turned around before a bushy-haired missile ran full speed into him. "HarrywhathappenedouttherewhathappenedwiththedragonhowdidyoumanagetosurvivewhydidyoujustsitdownohharryIwassoworried..."

He smiled and returned his friend's hug. "Not here, Hermione. I'll explain everything later. We have a lot to discuss."

She looked worried. "Are you OK?"

He released her and thought for a moment. "Actually, Hermione, no, I'm not. But we'll talk later. Right now the professor and I need to have a long talk. Right, professor?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, Harry. We do need to talk about your performance today. Let's go to my office."

Right at that moment, Ron came running up, out of breath. "That was amazing, mate, what you did with that dragon, I..."

Ron's voice faded away as Harry turned around without further word and started walking toward Hogwarts, nearly demanding that the aged professor follow by his demeanor.

Ron's mouth worked up and down a couple of times, and said to Hermione, "What's his problem?"

Hermione rounded on Ron. "Oh, I don't know, Ron. Figure it out." And she turned around and flounced out of the tent, leaving a gobsmacked Ron behind.

"When did she learn to flounce?", Ron thought, amazedly.

Scene Break

On the way back to Dumbledore's office, the walk was very quiet. It was a very pretty fall day, the grass was still growing, the birds were singing (one of which, the elusive BeethovenBird, was singing a rather off-tune rendition of "Ode to Joy" - this is what happens when you're in an area saturated with magic), the sky was a perfect blue with puffy clouds skittering across it, and the grass and trees were the kind of vivid green you get when they are content after gorging themselves on high-quality water and sunlight, and run-on sentences were chasing each other around the greens, laughing quietly as they caught each other and tumbled over themselves in the thick grass. Harry was carrying his golden egg, though he looked like he wanted to toss it in the Black Lake.

Dumbledore and Harry, though, did not say much to each other, though Dumbledore did share the results of the task – Dumbledore and Maxine giving a perfect score, Bagman giving a 5 because he freed the dragon, and Karkaroff giving a 1 because 0 wasn't an option. Harry didn't care, but appreciated knowing anyway.

Each was preoccupied with the events of an hour or so ago, from their perspective, and knew the conversation coming up was not likely to be pleasant, each for their own reasons. So each chose to enjoy the perfect day as they entered the dark and oddly homelike halls of Hogwarts, and eventually ended up in the quirky office of the most powerful wizard alive. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, and Harry took his customary seat in front of the desk. Fawkes sat on his perch, trilling quietly.

Dumbledore broke the silence.

"Lemon Drop, Harry?"

"No thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore settled back in his chair. "Harry, I am an old man, and I have seen many things in my life. I discovered the twelve uses of dragon blood, so I consider myself to be fairly experienced with dragons. I have never in my life even conceived of seeing what I saw during the first task, and I must confess to being quite astonished. Whatever gave you the idea to simply ask the dragon for the egg?"

Harry leaned back in his own chair, seemingly utterly unconcerned that the most powerful wizard in the world was – politely, mind you – interrogating him. Of course, he didn't ask the dragon for the egg – he actually got the egg as a consequence of doing the right thing, but he figured he didn't have to tell the aged but flawed Headmaster everything.

"Honestly, professor, you'd be surprised what happens when you just stop caring."

Dumbledore's face went from disappointed to concerned. "Stop caring, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "That's what I said. Stop caring. As in don't care. Don't give a toss. Don't give a shit."

"What... have you stopped caring about, Harry?"

"What have I stopped caring about?", Harry scoffed. "Everything!"

"Surely you must care about your friends? Your family?"

And that's when the dam broke.

Harry chuckled quietly. "My family. Albus bloody Dumbledore has the nerve to ask me why I don't care about my _family_. Sir", and Harry spat out the last word, "I don't have family. You saw to that."

Dumbledore's expression turned from concern to hurt. "Harry, I didn't kill -"

"No, sir, you didn't. I know who killed my parents. I don't blame you for that. What I do blame you for, though, are the people who I was left with after they died."

"Harry, I know...", Dumbledore started.

Harry shot up from his chair like a rocket.

"NO YOU DON'T."

"Harry, I..."

"No, SIR. You listen to ME for a change. I spent eleven years of my life being treated like a bloody house elf! No one checked up on me. Even the letter you sent was addressed to me at the "cupboard under the stairs". It was only after that that they gave me Dudley's second bedroom, and then they put locks on the outside and cat flaps! When the Weasleys came to get me, they had to rip bars off the window that were supposed to keep me and my bloody owl in!"

Dumbledore's face fell. "Harry, surely it couldn't be as bad as all that..."

"It was! And don't call me Shirley!"

Dumbledore just looked puzzled at that. "Harry, what?"

Harry waved his hand. "Not important. You knew or should have known what had happened to me, and you didn't even bother to check in to make sure I wasn't being mistreated."

"But Harry, you were protected, you were fed, you were treated just as a normal boy..."

Harry's lip quivered just a little. "Yes, sir. I survived it. On that we'll agree. I survived my first eleven years. Without love. Did you know or care what you were sentencing me to? Did you even bother to find out after the fact?"

Dumbledore just sat there, and a tear leaked out of his eye.

"How could I have failed you this badly?", Dumbledore asked, almost to himself.

Harry was silent.

"Harry, I honestly thought that they would treat you as family. I truly did."

Harry sighed and looked down at his feet.

"I believe, you, professor. And that's the problem. You're so idealistic. You think the best of people, you always give them a second chance, you're willing to sacrifice the good for the sake of saving the evil. But if you want to see the price of this, look at me. I am the cost of your idealism. Even now, sir, the evil runs rampant in this school because you are so intent on reforming it you don't care if the innocent suffer.

You asked why I don't care anymore. Here's why I don't care. Because you don't. Because you, and people like you, can't be arsed to stand up for people like me and do what's _right_ for a change. Not what is easy. And if you don't care whether I live or die, then, why should I?"

"Don't care whether...?"

"No, sir. I don't. You could kill me right now and I wouldn't give a toss. And when I realized that today, as I was walking out to meet that dragon, I realized that not caring sure does make things easier. It gives you courage. And I walked right up to that dragon and pretty much dared it to kill me."

Dumbledore wasn't sure how many more shocks his heart could take in one day. "You... dared..."

"I told you. I don't care. If it had killed me I would have been perfectly fine with that."

Dumbledore took off his glasses and put his head in his hands. If this boy was telling anything near the truth, he buggered it bigtime.

"Harry... isn't there anything you care about?"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe Hermione. The others who didn't abandon me this term, few as they are. Hedwig. That's about it. Everything else can go bugger itself for all I care."

Yep, the headmaster thought. I buggered up. How is this boy supposed to fulfill the prophecy if he doesn't care whether he lives or dies?

Harry, for his part, was trying to decide how much to tell Dumbledore. He figured the Mark of the Dragon would be a good start. "Oh, and there's something else, too. You see..."

Harry was spared continuing, though, by the door bursting open and McGonagle and Snape levitating in a straw-haired man they'd never seen before. Dumbledore stood up and said, quite authoritatively, "What is the meaning of this?"

Snape sneered at Harry, but then put his attention on Dumbledore.

"This... man... was impersonating Moody. He was taking polyjuice but it looks like it stopped working. He tried to curse us but he seems to have also lost his magic for some reason."

Harry spoke up. "I think this is the man that entered me into the tournament, Professor."

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a long day. After dismissing Harry, he tossed some powder in the floo and called Amelia Bones, director of the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement). Then, in a spectacular example of setting the correct priorities as the leader of the Light, Supreme Mugwump, and Best Dressed Wizard in Beating for the Other Team Wizard Weekly, five times running, he took a headache potion. He was going to have to continue this conversation with Harry, but more important matters awaited.

Scene Change

Later that evening, after Amelia Bones left with Barty Crouch Jr., and Moody had been rescued from his trunk and sent to St. Mungos, dinner was being served in the Great Hall. Harry walked into the Hall, and everyone stopped talking, almost at once. You could hear a pin drop.

Harry looked around, and sat down at the Gryffindor table, next to Hermione. He whispered to her "come with me after dinner and I'll explain everything". She nodded.

As he started to dig into his food, the conversation started to pick up again, but one voice carried over from the Slytherin table.

"Oi, there's Potter! Did you see him hugging that dragon? Wouldn't even fight it, the tosser!"

Harry honestly didn't care, and just kept on eating like he didn't hear. The Slytherins were snickering at Draco's words.

"Hey Potter! What are you going to do next? Bugger it?"

What happened next stunned everyone in the room, not the least Harry, when Dumbledore stood up and banged his fist on the table.

"ENOUGH", he roared.

Draco looked at the head table, enraged, but with fear in his eyes as well.

"Mr. Malfoy. To your dorms. Now."

Draco stood up. "Wait till my father hears of this!"

Dumbledore turned into the man who defeated Grindelwald again. "I look forward to it, Mr. Malfoy. He and I have been needing to have a long talk about your behavior for a long time, and it's about time we had it. We will talk about your future at this school before the night is up. SIT DOWN, Professor Snape!", he said, as Snape was half out of his chair, ready to defend Draco. "There will be plenty of opportunity to discuss my actions, but now is not the time!"

As Draco stalked out of the room, Dumbledore continued.

"It was pointed out to me today that I have been doing what is easy instead of what is right. That ends today. You heads of house will be calling meetings with each one of your houses before the week is up. That kind of baiting will no longer be tolerated. Please enjoy the rest of your dinner, while behaving in a manner befitting your station."

Most of the Slytherins looked both murderous and frightened, while the rest of the school just looked pensive, though Luna Lovegood actually looked like she had tears in her eyes. Snape, however, looked murderous, and knew just who to blame. If looks could kill, Harry would be dead three times over.

Harry, though, just looked thoughtful. Perhaps Dumbledore wasn't so bad after all. He ate the rest of his dinner in pensive silence.

After dinner, Harry pulled Hermione into an unused classroom, shut the door, cast a privacy charm, and turned to his best friend.

"Alright, Hermione. I promised you we'd talk later."

Hermione bounced up and down with barely suppressed excitement, her bushy hair jiggling around like floppy gelatin. "Harry, what happened down there? Can you talk to Dragons? Are you all right? Why did you -"

Harry stopped her, and they both sat down next to each other.

"Hermione, I'm only having this conversation with you because you didn't abandon me. Almost everyone else did. Here's what happened: I gave up. I walked out on that pitch, and suddenly the reality of everything just hit me. How everything and nearly everyone in my entire life has been conspiring to kill me in one way or another, and I just... snapped. I lost my will to live. And so I just walked up to that dragon, completely and totally unconcerned as to whether it would kill me."

Hermione's lip quivered a little. "Lost your... will.. to live?"

Harry sighed. The waterworks were about to start.

"Yeah. I didn't care whether I lived or died. Still don't really. My life seems to have such little value that I'm just a pawn in everyone else's games, why should I care anymore?"

"Oh Harry!", she cried, and launched herself into his arms, blubbering like a schoolgirl, which she was, so that was OK.

Harry awkwardly patted her on the back. "There.. there?"

She finally disentangled herself from him and slapped him across the face, hard. Harry looked shocked.

"That was for almost killing yourself and making me worry! And this..."

Hermione grabbed both sides of his face and kissed him square on the lips. After what seemed lime only minutes but was just a few seconds, she released him.

"And that... that was..."

Hermione lost her nerve and ran for the door. She flung it open and ran through it, and Harry heard her footsteps receding in the distance, and as his mind finally gained rational thought, he ran after her.

A/N: I'm doing a bad thing. I don't know where this story is going. I just thought it would be a fun thing to write and so I'm writing it. Maybe it'll turn out great, maybe it won't, but to be frank, I don't know where it's going any more than you do. Will Harry and Hermione fall in love? Will it be with someone else? Will it be with anyone? I'm not a shipper, so honestly, I don't care, I could write him with anyone and be fine with it. Maybe even Pansy. I'm rather fond of Luna, what a delightful girl.

Will Dumbledore realize exactly how much he screwed up with he finds out his scar is no longer a horcrux? Or will he, instead, double down like the stubborn old man he can sometimes be? Clues are in this chapter. Apparently, Harry just knocked some sense into him. Did Hermione knock some sense into Harry? Find out next chapter!

How did Harry know all of these things? People say all sorts of things around a seemingly inanimate Goblet. Plus it can sense magical signatures, comes with the job.

Still T for now. If I'm going to explore teenage romance, it's going to be romance, not hormones. For now, anyway.

Because I am writing this on the fly, it's entirely possible some chapters could be slightly rewritten in the future. Such are the occupational hazards of being a bad boy and writing this way. Guess we'll all have to deal. I will let you know if I do.

Read? Like? Review! Thank you for the previous reviews, they motivated me to write this!


	3. Dumbledore Starts Making Amends

Disclaimer: I don't understand the need for these silly disclaimers. It should be fairly clear by now that I am not J.K. Rowling - I don't have the money, I don't have the breasts, and I don't have the published books. And the idea of making money off of this tripe is positively ludicrous. But here we are, yet another disclaimer. I'm not J.K. Rowling, I'm not making money off of this, and I'm sure that many of these ideas have been done to bloody death in hundreds of different fanfics, so just plaster on a smile and enjoy the ride.

Across the castle, another, very different conversation was occurring, as Severus Snape swept somewhat scarily into Dumbledore's office, robes billowing out like a particularly juicy thunderstorm just before it swept an outhouse away in some forsaken part of middle America.

Dumbledore knew that his actions would have repercussions – possibly far-ranging ones. But he also knew that Harry was right. He had calculated with the life of a child, and arguably got the better end of that calculation – Harry was, against all odds, seemingly reasonably well-adjusted and unharmed. But the reason Dumbledore had seemingly changed so much over the past day or so was because the talk with Harry made him realize that while he could easily manipulate people around the chessboard as pawns, he very rarely was the one who had to pay the price for the "Greater Good". It was always the people he was manipulating that paid the price. People were even dead because of choices he made. And as he looked back on his actions, he had to answer the question "was it worth it?" And he had to admit to himself that, no, it was not.

And so he found himself on the receiving end of Snape's wrath, not for the first time.

Snape swept in and refused to sit down, instead leaning up against one of the walls of his office and staring contemptuously at the Headmaster.

"Headmaster, what was the meaning of what you did in the Great Hall tonight?", Snape sneered. "Draco was just putting that Potter brat in his place, he needs to be taken down a peg or two-"

"SIT DOWN and shut up, Severus", Dumbledore stated, in a tone that brokered no discussion or argument. Snape sat down.

"Headmaster-"

"I said shut up, Severus. As in be quiet. STOP TALKING. Zip it."

"Head-"

"Zzzzz"

"But-"

"Zipit"

"B-"

"Zippity-doo-dah"

Snape opened his mouth.

"Z-"

Snape closed his mouth.

"Severus, do you know how many students got an OWL in potions since you became the potions teacher?"

Snape said, "I hardly see -"

Dumbledore leant forward on his desk, eyes blazing.

"Severus, answer the question."

"... Less than half. But they..."

"Severus, you will speak when spoken to. Do you have any idea what effect this is having on our society? We can't find qualified people to be aurors. We can't find people qualified to make medical potions. Your failure to produce people skilled in even the basics of potions is having a detrimental effect on this society that will take years to repair, just as it took years to create."

"My failure? These dund-"

"Severus, I said shut up! Those 'dunderheads', as you so politely put it, are capable of being productive members of society in every other way, but they appear to have grown up with a life-long hatred of potions. And for many of those students, you are the only exposure to potions that they will ever receive in their education. The responsibility for their failure lies solely on you!"

For once, Snape was silent. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking every bit the powerful authority figure he was.

"I allowed this for years, Severus. I allowed it because I allowed my trust for you in matters of fighting Voldemort to cloud my judgement. I made a mistake, and because of this mistake, I caused the wizarding world nearly irreparable damage. That mistake, Severus, was allowing you anywhere _near_ children. You obviously cannot even stand the children that you are entrusted to in your own house, and you have allowed a society in your house that has poisoned the entire school. And those children that are not entrusted to you, or whose parents are not influential in Voldemort's circles – you are downright abusive! And what of Harry, who has done absolutely nothing to you?"

Snape's face contorted into a sneer, and Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, that is exactly what I mean. I can't even mention his name without your face betraying your emotions."

Dumbledore leaned forward.

"Severus, your service in the fight against Voldemort is much appreciated. I value you highly for that, and don't think that your contributions in that regard are unnoticed. But I cannot allow the battle against the forces of evil to spill over into the education of children, as much as some would love to see that happen. So, as of now, you are relieved of your post as head of Slytherin house, and you are also from now on restricted to teaching fourth year and above. I will be teaching the first three years. Every single one of your house points – both given and taken – will be reviewed by me or Professor McGonagle, and are subject to reversal at any time. As well, you are required to develop a curriculum for your classes, one which I will personally review and approve, and you must teach the basics of potion interactions – there will be no more placing a potion on the board and refusing to supervise anyone but your house. You will, from now on, comport yourself in a professional manner and you will not allow any sabotage of potions from anyone in your classes, no matter which house they are in. If a student needs additional help, you will arrange it. You will ensure that everyone in your class is treated with respect – by you, and also by their fellow students. I will, on occasion, be observing your class at random and invisible to you. If you cannot abide by these rules – spy or not – I will expel you from this school and find someone who can. Do I make myself clear?"

"Headmaster-"

"Severus. This is not up for negotiation. This is what must happen for you to be allowed to stay. Your only other option is to leave this school tonight and never return. I ask you again.", and Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Snape. "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Severus gulped.

"Crystal, Headmaster."

Dumbledore resumed his usual grandfatherly manner. "Splendid, splendid. Now, off you go. You have some lesson plans to create. Please send Draco up to my office when you return to the dungeons."

Snape swooped out without a backward glance.

A few minutes later, Draco entered Dumbledore's office.

"Have a seat."

"Headmaster-"

"Mr. Malfoy. I understand that you believe that you rule the roost here, as they say, but it is time that you realized that you do not. Your father is no longer a member of the Board of Governors, and he no longer has any sway here. I would advise you to remember to whom exactly you are speaking. I have forgotten more than you, or your father, will ever know."

Draco began to turn red, but wisely stayed silent.

"As of a few minutes ago, I have relieved Professor Snape of head of house duties for Slytherin. He will no longer be protecting you. I have put him on a very short leash – the type of behavior you showed in the Great Hall will not be tolerated again. Do you understand?"

"I should have known you'd be taking his side. Wait till my father-"

Dumbledore rubbed his eyes again, for what seemed like the fifth time that evening.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you going to spend the rest of your life hiding behind your father's robes?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, but Dumbledore continued talking, drowning out his protests. Dumbledore's voice raised to a shout, and he looked every bit the aged and powerful wizard he was.

"This is not a game, Mr. Malfoy. This is not some exercise in house loyalty where the loser loses house points, this is not a childhood game of who can insult the other until one runs home crying to mum. This is serious business where people lose their lives, and before all is said and done, it may be people you love, or it may be you! This is WAR! You have not experienced war! People die! Think carefully about where you put your loyalties, for not all paths will see you to your majority! What good is your father's money if you're not alive to spend any of it?"

Draco cringed at Dumbledore's words.

"You will behave, Mr. Malfoy. There will be no more incidents like the entire school witnessed at dinner this evening. You will not do so because to ignore me may see you expelled, though it will. You will not do so because this is what is expected of you as the scion of house Malfoy, though it is. You will not even do so because you are bringing disrepute onto your family by your callous, unthinking, and frankly childish behavior, though you are. You will do so because you are playing games that should not be played by those with far more wisdom and experience than you, and I will not see you getting yourself into further trouble while you are attending my school . I ask you again. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded.

"Good man. Your new head of house will be meeting with your house shortly to explain this to the rest of your house. Off to bed with you", he stated, his kindly grandfatherly visage now firmly in place again. Draco left the office far less confident of himself than when he walked in.

A few minutes later, there was another visitor. One he had been expecting.

"Enter, Minerva."

Minerva walked in and sad down across from Albus without preamble.

"Albus, you know that I as well of the rest of the staff have been hoping you would start dealing with the bullying that is rampant in this school for years. But until now, you have refused. Why the sudden change?"

Albus leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

"Minerva, this afternoon, after a task that turned out in a way that I could not have predicted in a million lifetimes, a boy sat in that very chair and told me in no uncertain terms that he has lost the will to live. And as he did so, I was struck right here" - Albus pointed between his eyes - "with the abrupt and sobering realization that it was _entirely_ due to my actions that he felt that way."

McGonagall was silent.

"I sent him to live with his relatives – in spite of specific instructions from his parents to the contrary. I did not check up on him, relying on a doddy old woman who spent far more time with her cats than with other people. I allowed Snape and the Slytherins to bully him from his very first day here. I set up a trap for Voldemort on the third floor, telling the entire school to avoid that hall, knowing that that would probably entice them better than anything else I could have done. I did not recognize what the Basilisk was until he had already killed it. In a thousand different ways, I have failed that boy, and today he walked right up to a bloody dragon and dared it to kill him."

McGonagall gasped, her lips pursed to a thin, lipless gash. "He did what?", she spluttered.

Albus nodded. "And as I looked back on my decisions over the past many years, even those that led to Riddle coming to power and taking so many lives, I realized – with the help of that young boy who is wise beyond his years – that I was so convinced that everyone could be saved that I was willing to sacrifice any amount of innocent lives to bring that one life back from the brink. No matter what the cost."

Albus sighed.

"But today, I reaped what I sowed. I didn't treat that boy as a person. I did what I felt I had to in order to mold him into the savior this world needed. And because I didn't treat him like a person, he doesn't see himself as worth anything. He lost his will to live because I took it from him.

Maybe from one perspective, Minerva, I did what I had to – but... at what cost?" Dumbledore sniffled. "Have I lost such perspective that I consider the life of one brought back from evil to be more valuable than the life of one that never went there in the first place?"

Minerva stood up and went around the desk. She conjured another chair, and sat down next tim him. And, not for the first time, she held her headmaster and long-time friend while he cried it out.

Scene Break

Hermione was fast, but Harry was faster, and it didn't take long before he caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "Hermione... wait. Please."

Hermione turned around, her eyes stained with tears.

"I'm so sorry Harry I don't know what came over me I shouldn't have done that I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore I'm so embarrassed" - all the words came tumbling out like promises from American politicians.

Harry had no idea how to deal with a crying girl, so he did three things. He conjured a tissue, and he wiped her eyes. Then he pulled her gently behind a suit of armor.

She looked up at him with an unreadable look (unreadable to a fourteen year old, a slightly older and more experienced wizard would have called that look the "Give it to me hard and don't be shy about it number four look"), and he sighed.

"Tell me one thing, Hermione. Did you mean that?"

She looked down at her feet, and slowly nodded. Harry rubbed his head with his right hand. He was a boy! He was raised with the Dursleys! He didn't know what to do! So he went for honesty. If he wasn't going to care, by Merlin, he was going to do it right.

"Hermione... 'Mione...", he said, hesitating. "I don't know what I'm doing. My only examples of that kind of love were my aunt and uncle, and trying to imagine that... imagine a walrus and an ironing board..."

They both shuddered.

"Look, Hermione... I'm not saying no. Merlin knows you've been my best friend since we got on the train, and I can't think of anyone... but I'm broken. I can't say yes. I don't know how to say yes. Please, if you mean it, just have patience with me. If you really mean it, let me figure out what it means on my own time. Please."

Hermione shuffled her feet, and finally nodded. "Okay, Harry. I can't say I understand, but I know you're telling me the truth. I'll give you time."

Harry sighed with relief. He hadn't completely buggered this up.

"But Harry?", Hermione said, lifting her head, almost purring in a way that made him react in a completely unfamiliar way.

"Yes, Hermione?", he said, adjusting his trousers, suddenly aware of how he could feel her breath on his face. She smelled like vanilla.

"I'm not going to make this easy for you", she said, and gave him a tender, chaste kiss, before stepping out from behind the suit of armor and walking away.

Harry listened to her footsteps receding down the hallway. It took him a good five minutes to wipe the silly grin off of his face, before following her down to hall to their shared common room.

A/N So it looks like this is going to be a Harry/Hermione fic. Wonderful. But will the road there be smooth, or will it be rocky? Will it end that way? Find out along with me.

I want to say something about how I see Dumbledore. I see Dumbledore as a fundamentally good but very flawed man – his subconscious desire to atone for the accidental murder of Ariana has driven him for years – he thinks that every time he saves someone from the dark, maybe he is atoning for his sister. But maybe it's time, now, for him to let go and move on. I see Harry as a survivor, and believe me, I know what it is to be a survivor. Hermione will have to have a lot of patience.

Dumbledore is still of the Beating for the Other Team persuasion, but he and Minerva have been friends for many, many years, and that comes with its own type of intimacy that transcends plumbing.

I hope you enjoyed the opening shots of Dumbledore trying to atone for his many, many mistakes.

Read? Like? Review!

Update 7/23/16: As a reviewer pointed out (a little bit rudely, but he/she was correct), Lucius is no longer a member of the board of governors. Which actually played right into my hands, so I made the correction. A few other minor, non story affecting changes, such as correcting the spelling of McGonagall.

Update 7/24/16: An anonymous reviewer pointed out that "I sowed what I reaped" is nonsensical. That is fixed.


	4. Reconciliation and Innocence Found

Disclaimer: Sigh. As if. Still not Rowling, still not making money, and stop asking already.

The next morning saw Harry waking up after a fitful sleep. As he walked into the Great Hall, most of the other students were sitting at their benches eating breakfast. Draco was sitting at his table as well, but looked a combination of angry, pensive, and scared. He did not say a word, either to his housemates or anyone else, he just listlessly picked at his food.

All of the teachers except for Snape and Moody were sitting at the head table, which was rather unusual – usually professors, like the students, came and went for breakfast. After a few more people filtered in, Dumbledore stood up and struck his fork against a goblet, which caused people to quiet down and look up at the head table.

"May I have your attention please. Excellent, excellent. Normally announcements wait until the evening meal, but why waste time?

"The first announcement is that all of the champions other than Mr. Potter are expected to make a full recovery. They will be up and about in a few days. Our very own Healer Pomfrey is doing a bang-up job getting them ship-shape."

Most in the Great Hall applauded.

"Yes, yes, they all appreciate your support. If you wish to visit them, you may do so today, provided, of course, that Madame Pomfrey may shoo you all out at any time."

"The second announcement is that Professor Moody was found to be being impersonated by a Death Eater, and said Death Eater was caught yesterday when, for unexplained reasons, he lost the ability to perform magic. He is currently in Azkaban awaiting trial."

The students murmured amongst themselves. Moody had been a good teacher, Death Eater or not.

"The second announcement is that Professor Snape will no longer be teaching potions for years one through three."

There were cheers from said years, but boos from the upper years who would still have to be taught by him. Dumbledore raised a hand in an entreaty for silence, and eventually everyone quieted down again.

"I have agreed to take these classes temporarily. It has been a long time since I have taught, it will be nice to impart knowledge into your young brains again. Also, you can expect there to be changes in the lesson plans for fourth year and above. Your heads of house will have further details on that."

The murmuring started again, but then died down just as quickly.

"Professor Snape is also no longer head of Slytherin house. A replacement will be announced this evening."

Some of the Slytherins jumped up yelling "WHAT?", while others breathed an obvious sign of relief. Others had no reaction, as Draco had told them the night before. Dumbledore waited for the commotion to die down.

"Because two of our teachers are unable to perform their duties today, yesterday was a very eventful day, and the teachers have a lot of unexpected work to do today that does not involve teaching, I hereby inform you that all classes today have been can-"

At this the cheers were so deafening that his last word was drowned out. Dumbledore smiled and waited for the cheers to die down.

"Yes, yes... everyone loves a day off. There is one further announcement. This is a very important announcement, so please pay careful attention.

"Hogwarts was envisioned as a place where many different types of people who could perform magic could come and receive an equal education. In the days of the founders, there were serfs, lords, nobility, and peasants. Today there are purebloods, halfbloods, and muggleborns. However, Hogwarts' charter has never changed. The house system was envisioned as a way for students to have community amongst those that were most like them. It was never envisioned as a way to create artificial separation between said students. However, that is what it has turned into. Slytherin against Gryffindor, Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw – friendly rivalry is healthy and can bring out the best in anyone, but what I have seen lately has gone far beyond friendly rivalry. I am frankly alarmed at how divisive the inter-house relations have become.

"I must admit to responsibility for having allowed this to take root, and as headmaster, I will count this as one of my greatest mistakes."

The hall was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. And did, because Fred Weasley picked that moment to drop a pin.

"But the beauty of mistakes, young people, is that they can be rectified. So this morning, I am announcing a return to the founding principles of Hogwarts. Bullying will not be tolerated further. Your heads of house will be scheduling mandatory meetings with you tonight to go into further detail, but in short, treating your fellow students in any way that is not, at a minimum, respectful and professional, will be grounds for immediate discipline. And in case you have it in your head that a detention or two will be worth it, I am not talking about detentions – I am talking about calling your parents, and expulsion."

The look of fear on the faces of some of the worst bullies were something that the bullied were particularly enjoying.

"You do not have to like your fellow students. I could not require that even if I wanted to. Respectful disagreements and conflicts are to be expected. I am referring to actions such as drawing your wand on another student, using disrespectful names against them or their parents, hiding their things" - and Dumbledore looked specifically at the Ravenclaw table, where a few girls lowered their eyes - "and other similar activities meant to demean or degrade.

"Further details will be forthcoming in your house meetings tonight, and questions will be answered there. If you know of someone who is not here, please pass on what I have said this morning. I am sure they will be pleased at the lack of classes for today."

Dumbledore raised his goblet.

"Enjoy your day, students. Tomorrow classes resume."

Even though he kind of saw it coming, Harry was shocked. He just sat there with his fork halfway to his mouth, and then just put it back down, staring at Dumbledore with open astonishment. Many other students had the same reaction. Some of the bullies from every house were looking at Dumbledore with hatred, but they knew when they had been outplayed.

However, one student stood up slowly, and with tears with her eyes, navigated her way from the Ravenclaw table to the Gryffindor table, sat down next to Harry, and hugged him tightly while sobbing into his shoulder. Harry was gobsmacked, as the only thing he knew about this girl was her name – Luna Lovegood.

Finally she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, said "Thank you, Harry Potter", kissed him on the cheek, and walked back to her table to finish her meal.

Harry missed the barely concealed rage on Hermione's face. Ron was too busy shoveling in the food to care.

At that moment Dumbledore walked by Harry's table, and stopped next to him.

"Harry, if you have a moment, I would like to finish the conversation we were having yesterday. Are you finished with your food?"

Harry stood up. He had eaten all he was going to. Today was weird and was just getting weirder.

Scene Change

Harry and Dumbledore walked back into the Headmaster's office, and Harry sat down in his customary place.

"Headmaster, what-?", Harry blurted.

"Harry, call me Albus, please."

"A-Albus?"

"After everything you have endured due to my decisions, Harry, it is the least privilege I can grant you. However, I would appreciate if you would continue to call me by my proper name in front of your peers." Dumbledore... winked?

Harry blinked.

Yes, that was a wink. And a twinkle. A winkinkle?

"Harry, I'm sure you wonder what has changed between yesterday and today."

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore sighed. "I have made a great many mistakes in my life, Harry. Far too many. It would seem that the older one becomes, and the more influential, the more damaging the mistakes become. Yesterday, I saw a boy come into my office and tell me that he had lost the will to live, and I realized that this was entirely due to decisions I've made, for and about you."

Harry's mouth dropped open. Of all the things he could have expected...

"I have begun to rectify these mistakes, Harry. I had some very difficult conversations yesterday evening, and I have a feeling I will be having far more shortly. I have not earned your trust, Harry. In fact, I have done everything possible to destroy it. But I hope to."

There was a tear in Dumbledore's eye. It made a hot trail down his wrinkled cheek.

"Forgive an old man his mistakes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth was pretty much on the floor at this point. About all he could do was nod dumbly and say "I'll try, Prof- Albus."

"That's all I ask, dear boy."

Harry sat there, thinking about these new developments. He decided to come clean.

"Headmaster, I was going to tell you something yesterday before we got interrupted. I didn't dare the dragon to kill me. It's true that I didn't _care_ if it killed me, but I didn't dare it. I didn't need to."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair.

"Apparently, Albus" (he was still trying to get used to that) "the Goblet of Fire is sentient. And seconds after I sat down, it started talking to me."

"What did it say?"

"It told me that it was exposure to the ambient magic of the castle that made it sentient, that it knew I had been entered against my will, that it was changing the magical binding to the person who entered me and removed all of their magic."

"Barty Crouch Jr.", Dumbledore said, with understanding dawning.

Harry nodded. "It also told me some things that it overheard, that's how I knew about Bagman and Skeeter. It told me that dragons could speak parseltongue. It told me that I no longer had to participate, but asked me if I wanted to have some fun with it anyway.

So I walked up to the dragon and offered to set her free. She was very grateful, and after I conjured a bag for her, she touched my scar with a talon. She told me that there was a shade of darkness in my scar. She removed it and replaced it with – Headmaster? Headmaster?"

Dumbledore's eyes were wide and he was shaking.

"She... removed.. it? Harry, She removed the darkness in your scar? Let me see!", he almost shouted, and faster than he should have been able to move at his age, he grabbed his wand and cast all sorts of spells at the scar... finally, after he was done, he sat back down, panting.

"It's gone", he said, his eyes welling up with tears. "It's gone. Harry, it's gone."

"What is?"

"Marked as his equal... neither can live... it's gone... the dragon removed it..."

Dumbledore was choking back sobs now. Harry looked alarmed.

"Are you alright, Albus?"

Dumbledore took a moment to collect himself.

"Harry, I'm afraid I owe you an explanation of quite a few things. I can only hope you don't hate me after I tell you.

Voldemort was once a student known as Tom Riddle. I watched him descend into the darkness. I gave him so many chances to redeem himself, and yet he slipped further and further down that road, and eventually went to a place from which there was no return.

There is an object, Harry, that can be used to anchor one's soul to this plane of existence. It is called a Horcrux. It is one of the darkest and foulest magicks that have ever been conceived of – for not only does it split one's soul, but it requires a cold-blooded murder to create.

Harry, I believe that Riddle created seven of them. I believe that you were one. I believe that it was an accident when he killed your mother."

Harry's eyes widened.

"I knew of no way to remove it, Harry. I only knew of one way to destroy a horcrux – and that is to destroy its container."

Understanding dawned. "You thought I had to die in order to kill Voldemort."

"Yes, harry. I knew of no other way. I could not conceive of a way in which Riddle died and you could survive."

Harry thought for a moment. "Were you going to kill me?"

"Oh heavens no!", Dumbledore said, scandalized at the very thought.

"Then how..."

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know. I was hoping for the best."

"... but preparing for the worst."

"I was hoping to protect you from it for as long as possible."

"... that's why you sent me to the Dursleys."

Dumbledore nodded. "The blood wards would protect you, and I was hoping that your relatives would come around."

"They didn't."

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"The dragon said she replaced it with something called the 'Mark of the Dragon'".

Dumbledore fainted dead away.

Scene Change

After calling Poppy and helping to levitate the aged Headmaster to the hospital wing, where Harry was assured that he would be up and around in no time (but she was taking no chances due to his age), Harry decided to take a walk outside. It was a beautiful day – the BeethovenBird had changed to whistling the four note motif of the fifth symphony over and over again in different keys, strangely enough managing to put together something not entirely unlike the real fifth symphony, a MozartBird had taken up residence nearby as well and kept singing the first few notes of the Marriage of Figaro overture, and a WonkaBird kept saying "Rachmaninoff! Rachmaninoff!".

And of course, there was a RachmaninoffBird, which kept singing about how much it missed home in slow, minor key dirges.

All in all, it was a busy day for magical, musical birds.

And students, too. Having the day off, and it being a nice day out, a fall bite in the air but still sunny and beautiful, children of all years could be seen walking all over the place, Ravenclaws lounging around with a book on the well-manicured lawns, Hufflepuffs finding more things to be loyal to, Gryffindors jumping into the lake without a care in the world, and Slytherins cunningly hiding their clothing. Apparently, the Slytherins were going to test the limits of Dumbledore's new edicts, hoping that simple pranks would fly under his radar.

They were probably right, too. As long as they didn't actually take the clothing, they would likely get away with it. Of course, once the Gryffindors caught on, the Slytherins found themselves in the water too. And soon, with the splashing, squealing, and swimming, all was forgotten.

They may be Slytherins, but they were also children.

The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were also taking the opportunity to explore the lawns, and, in some cases, apparently, each other.

Harry decided to find a tree to sit under, and after scouting out a tree with the perfect requirements (the number one requirement being that it must be a tree) he proceeded to do just that. He listened to the BeethovenBirds, the MozartBirds, the WonkaBirds, the RachmaninoffBirds, and was that just a hint of a BerliozBird? He had just dozed off when he became aware of someone sitting beside him.

He looked to his left, and there was Luna Lovegood. The way she was sitting, the sun was glinting off her blond hair and silvery eyes. She was wearing a pretty off-white sundress, and had her knees up to her chin with her arms wrapped around them. She looked a little bit like an angel.

He closed his eyes again and they sat in companionable silence. Until she finally spoke up, with an ethereal, dreamy voice.

"They took my things."

He didn't open his eyes again, but said, "who?"

"My roommates. Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe. They would take my things and hide them all over the castle."

"Why did they do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe just because they could. Because Looney Lovegood would never tell. And who'd believe her, anyway?"

"I would."

"I know, Harry Potter. They are infested with wrackspurts. You don't have wrackspurts. Wrackspurts hate you. You are far too pure."

They sat in silence for a while.

"The nargles told me that it was you. You were the reason all of my things came back last night. You were the reason my roommates are leaving me alone. I'm not Looney anymore. I'm Luna again."

She reached over and took his hand. She turned his palm right side up and caressed his palm with one finger, tracing each line gently. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but there was something oddly tender about the gesture. He closed his eyes for a moment at her touch, it was very gentle. After a moment, he turned to look at her, and could see her eyes closed as well, her lips slightly parted.

Finally, her eyes flutered open, and she turned to him, and smiled. "You gave me my name back, Harry Potter."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, and five minutes later, both of them were asleep, the breeze gently wafting through their hair

A/N This is a good place to leave it. Is it H/HR? Is it H/LL? I don't know. But I have said that I found Luna delightful, and she really is a joy to write. Such a beautiful soul.

I read every review, and I take them seriously. Several reviews have shaped the direction of this story. I do not take specific direction, saying "you should make Harry date Pansy" might get you laughed at (or not), but bringing up things you like or don't like are immensely helpful to me. I might disagree. And in some cases, I may agree strongly. I don't do polls, I don't do "give me ideas", but I do do "this is a collaborative effort between me and my reviewers". I like that idea a lot. Just please don't get butthurt if I pass over your idea. Ultimately, it **is** my story, and I'm getting a better feel for where I want it to go as I write.

So Read? Like? Review.

Also, please don't expect daily updates. If I need a break, I will take one. So far the muse has been kind to me.

Update 7/23/16: Added some descriptive detail to the scene with luna, fixed quotes, added announcement that the other champions were going to be fine (That stuck in my craw).


	5. Reactions

Disclaimer: The BeethovenBird has agreed to sing this one.

"I don't care how much you're howling

Or how much you think I do

I am still not JK Rowling

No matter how much I might seem to

If you think I'm making money

Then you'd better think again

I'm still buying my own honey

Without help from this ol' pen

 _Freude schoene gotterfunken_ -"

(Alright, enough, BeethovenBird)

Tweet tweet tweet TWWWWWWWEEEEEETTTT

 _Draco_

After Draco left his meeting with the headmaster, nearly shaking with rage and embarassment, he headed for his dorms in the dungeon. Never before had he been treated like that! Did that barmy old coot not know who he was? He was a Malfoy! That coot should be bowing down to him, and he had been dressed down like some... like some... mudblood!

After he entered his dorms, he closed the curtains on his bed and hit them with a silencing and imperturbable charm, then pulled out the mirror he used to contact his father. When shaking hands, he nearly shouted "Lucius Malfoy!".

After a couple of minutes – far too many minutes, he thought that his father was deliberately making him wait, the face of his father finally appeared in the mirror.

"Yes, Draco?", his father said, in his characteristically soft and silky voice, full of menace. His pointed face had a scowl on it, presumably from being called so late.

"Father, the headmaster threatened me with expulsion tonight!"

His father was immediately alert, and the scowl disappeared. "What happened, Draco."

"Well, I just said that Harry might want to bugger the dragon he faced today -"

"You just said... Draco, where did you 'just say' this?"

"In the Great Hall", Draco mumbled.

"So you decided, in your great wisdom, to taunt the 'boy-who-lived'" -Malfoy spat those three words - "in a public place, the evening after he faced down a dragon and accomplished something not seen in the history of the wizarding world since the time of Myrrdin Emrys, and you are surprised that the headmaster decided to discipline you for your behavior?"

Draco was mute. This was not going how he intended.

"I am surprised as well, Draco. Not that the Headmaster finally disciplined you, but that it took him this long. Dumbledore has always been soft – that is the very trait that has allowed the Malfoy family to prosper.

"Listen, Draco, and listen to me well, because I will only say this once. You are an impulsive child who speaks before he thinks and runs to his father when circumstances conspire to cause him to face the possibility of facing consequences for his actions. I have been told of your behavior by the parents of other children that you have bullied, and yet still have protected you, in the hopes that perhaps you might see some sense and act as the Slytherin I had always hoped for you to be. So far, Draco, you have been nothing but a disappointment in that regard. You jump headlong into situations that are beyond your ability to master. Perhaps, Draco, you would have done well to be sorted into Gryffindor?"

Tears were welling in Draco's eyes.

"The Malfoys did not get to where they are, Draco, by being Gryffindors. We are cunning. We present respectability to the world, we always strive to make allies when possible, and all the better if they never see the knife being plunged into their back. From now on, Draco, you will be a Malfoy. You will watch your mouth, you will be a credit to the Malfoy name, and if you are expelled from Hogwarts due to your own stupidity you will find yourself disowned. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco nodded, mute.

The mirror went blank.

Draco curled up in his bed and cried.

 _Hermione_

Hermione sat at the breakfast table, chewing slowly on her breakfast, trying to avoid flying food from Ron's feeding frenzy next to her, and thinking about the events of the night before. She didn't know what had come over her! She was not the type of girl to behave as she did that evening – she had even kissed him! What if he had rejected her?

She was going to try her very hardest to convince Harry that she was the one for him. She thought she loved him. He had been her best friend for years, and... and what other boy would want her? With her frizzy hair and too large teeth and small breasts and bookish proclivities. If he rejected her than she was doomed to be a spinster for the rest of her life, with frumpy dresses and too many cats! She just knew it! He hadn't even said yes!

She listened to Dumbledore's pronouncements. The one about bullying was long overdue, she thought – bullying was a huge problem in Hogwarts. But she knew that there was no way that some leopards were going to change their spots. She hoped Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

Wait, was that Luna Lovegood? Walking towards her Harry? What did she say to him? Did she kiss him on the cheek? That bint! How could she!

And there goes Harry with Dumbledore, leaving her alone at the table with Ron, who was still doing his best impression of a vacuum cleaner, and glaring daggers at Luna, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, serenely eating her breakfast. Like she didn't even care that she just took Harry from her!

Hermione finally lost her appetite, and ran out of the Great hall, tears running down her cheeks. She would not cry until she got to her common room! She just wouldn't!

Finally she got to her bed, and thankful she had the day off, spent the whole rest of the morning crying, as all her dreams shattered.

 _Luna_

The night before, Luna watched Draco get soundly dressed down for behaving in such a way that was previously completely accepted. But what astonished her was when she looked up at Dumbledore. They were gone! All the wrackspurts were gone! They used to swim around his head and hide in his hair and beard so densely she wondered how he managed to get food into his mouth, but now there wasn't even one! Luna felt tears welling up in her eyes. Maybe things would finally start to change. She walked up to Harry and thanked him, kissing him on the cheek. Blushing prettily, she walked back to her table and resumed her meal. Why was Hermione Granger glaring at her like that? Oh well, must be the wrackspurts. Poor girl had a horrible infestation.

Later that evening, Cho, Marietta, and a couple of girls all came into the room with piles of Luna's things and dropped them down next to her bed. They then turned around and left, eyes downcast. Luna was even more astonished, but quickly picked up her stuff and put it back where it belonged.

The nargles told her that Harry Potter was responsible for removing the wrackspurts from Dumbledore.

She got ready for bed, and slept peacefully for the first time in several months.

The next morning, she woke up and went down to the great hall for breakfast, and there was so much more news! The wrackspurts were still gone, and Dumbledore appeared to want to double down on his lofty goals to make Hogwarts a safe place to study. After Harry and Dumbledore left together, Luna decided to take advantage of the day off and go plimpie hunting.

After she went to her dorms and changed into a pretty off-white sundress, and made sure her butterbeer cork necklace was nice and secure, she went outside and skipped towards the black lake. On her way, though, she saw Harry Potter making himself comfortable under a tree, and thought it would be nice to spend some time with Harry. She quietly walked over and sat down next to him, pulling her knees to her chest.

She saw him close his eyes, the cool breeze (but warm for this time of the fall) ruffling both of their hair.

"They took my things", she said suddenly. She didn't know what else to say.

"Who?", Harry said, without opening his eyes.

"My roommates. Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe. They would take my things and hide them all over the castle."

"Why did they do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe just because they could. Because Looney Lovegood would never tell. And who'd believe her, anyway?"

No one ever believed her. She was just Looney Lovegood. Could she helped it if she saw things differently than everyone else?

"I would."

And at that moment she knew, just knew, that he was telling the entire truth. He would believe her.

"I know, Harry Potter. They are infested with wrackspurts. You don't have wrackspurts. Wrackspurts hate you. You are far too pure."

She looked up at the clouds, some shaped like interesting animals that she'd only heard about from her father. There was a crumple-horned skorkack, over there was a blibbering humdinger, and there was a giant quarter-mile wide wrackspurt. She didn't know what it was about Harry's presence, but it calmed her. She felt safe there, next to him.

"The nargles told me that it was you. You were the reason all of my things came back last night. You were the reason my roommates are leaving me alone. I'm not Looney anymore. I'm Luna again."

She reached over and took his hand. Her father had always told her that you can tell a lot about someone from their palm, so she flipped his hand over so it was palm-up, and started to trace the lines, gently, with a finger. She concentrated on his energy, so pure and clean, and every time she stroked his palm with her fingers it caused little waves of pleasure to run up her arm.

Finally, satisfied with what she learned from his palm, she turned to him, and smiled. "You gave me my name back, Harry Potter." Her name was the most important thing she had, and the greatest gift anyone had ever given her.

Feeling the safest she had ever felt since coming to Hogwarts, she leaned into his shoulder. Listening to him breathe shallowly, she squeezed his hand softly, and closed her eyes. It felt so good, here, leaning against the boy who finally took the wrackspurts from Dumbledore. Finally she dozed off, safe and secure.

 _Ron_

Ron wondered why Harry ignored him, but those thoughts were quickly washed away with thoughts of food. He ate heartily, wondering what all the fuss was about when Draco suddenly left the hall and Dumbledore said something about something. With a full stomach, he went to bed, barely noticing Hermione swishing into the room like she was on a runway, Harry not far behind with a silly grin on his face.

The next morning, he dug into his food. Dumbledore was saying more stuff and people were cheering, but he didn't pay much attention – though he did cheer with a mouth full of food when Dumbledore announced classes were cancelled. The bangers and mash were excellent today, the house-elves really outdid themselves.

After breakfast he got out his broom and went to the quidditch pitch. Life was good.

 _Amelia Bones_

Amelia had had a busy evening. First of all, the stunned body of Rita Skeeter arrived in a holding cell, with a note from Dumbledore. The note said: "Rita Skeeter is an unregistered beetle animagus. I dare say this was how she got so many 'scoops'. - Albus Dumbledore" - it was signed in his characteristic loopy handwriting.

She read the note, twice, three times, and then crumpled it with frustration. This answered so many questions. Hell, the Prophet had even done a hatchet job on her once or twice.

She affixed an animagus and magic suppressing collar on Skeeter, and then ennervated her.

"What? Where am I?", she said, confused. And then her eyes fixed on Amelia, whose normally stern face was lit with the biggest, most predatory smile she could muster. It was a positively scary sight. Rita shrunk back against the back wall of her cell.

"Rita, do you know what the punishment for being an unregistered animagus is?"

Rita nodded, her eyes full of fear. "It's a ten thousand galleon fine or six months in Azkaban, or both."

Amelia nodded. "Just so. You will be held here until your trial. If you're lucky, it'll be before the new year. Enjoy your new accomodations, Rita. I dare say they're quite a bit better than Azkaban, wouldn't you agree?"

Rita's legs gave out, and she fell on her rump. With a satisfied smile, Amelia closed the cell door.

A little later, Amelia was busy doing the paperwork for Rita's incarceration and trial. She needed to talk to Dumbledore to find out exactly how he discovered that she was an unregistered animagus – and since he was the one who reported the crime he could not participate as Chief Warlock – oh what a mess. She was writing her report when the floo roared to life.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Amelia, please come quickly. We have a... situation here."

"I'll be right there, Albus", she said. She called Kingsley to her office, and with a cry of "Hogwarts", they went through.

"Albus, what's – Barty Crouch Jr.?"

Dumbledore nodded. "And what's worse, he's been impersonating Moody ever since the start of turn. He's no threat now, he seems to have lost his magic."

A young, sandy haired man was lying on the floor in a heap.

"How..? Nevermind. Kingsley, take him back to the DMLE and put him in a cell. Allow no one – and I mean no one, and that includes the minister himself – to have any contact with him until I get back to question him. Force is authorized. If anything happens to him before he has a chance to be questioned, it will be your job. Send a team to search his quarters here. We need to find out how an escaped death eater made his way to Hogwarts and managed to be undetected for nearly three months."

Dumbledore sat down and rubbed his head some more. It was going to be a long evening. As Aurors flooded out of his floo, he just sat in his chair and bemoaned yet another mistake. It was time to stop the mistakes.

Randy the RachmaninoffBird

Unbeknownst to most of the magical population, November the 25th was mating day for the RachmaninoffBird. The males had been spending most of their energy over the past month building a gigantic concert hall out of twigs and straw, and now quite a number of the males strode purposefully onto the stage. The concertmasterbird chirped a concert A, and all of the other birds tuned up.

And then out came the soloistbird and the conductorbird, and all of the females in the audience applauded politely. The soloist sat down at a carefully constructed piano, also built out of twigs, straw, bits of plastic, and some copper wire, and with the raising of its large and brightly colored wings of the conductorbird, the first notes of concerto #3 came out of the stringbird section.

In a secluded area near the forbidden forest, a large Durmstrang student and a petite french student stopped their mutual, very pleasurable explorations of each other, and listened intently. "Do you hear that?", the girl said.

"I do", the boy said. "Sounds like... Rachmaninoff."

As the first strains of the ossia cadenza started, they resumed their prior activities. The chords were very well-timed.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. No, seriously. I can't tell you how much I appreciate how involved many of you have gotten with this story. Most of the feedback seems related to the question of: Will it be Luna or Hermione, and why does Hermione suck so much? Well, hopefully, one of the answers is to be found here. The other is for the future.

This is a bit of a filler chapter, and maybe not my best work, but I wanted to expand on some of the events that I couldn't or didn't in previous chapters, or from another character's point of view. I hope they fill in some blanks and start to set the stage for what will happen in the future. I will say simply this much: My Amelia is competent, and I wonder what that will be like combined with a reforming Dumbledore.

Listen to Rachmaninoff's third concerto when you get a chance – particularly the Ossia cadenza. It is truly a work of art. I particularly like Argerich or Soerjadi.

And to the guest reviewers? I read your reviews, but I cannot reply. Thank you anyway.

Read? Like? Review!

Update 7/23/16: Fixed some minor spelling errors, added some non story affecting detail.


	6. Girls, Life's Greatest Mystery

(To the tune of Chopin's Funeral March): No money yet, not Rowling yet, don't you think if I were I'd do something else...

Harry woke up feeling the girl next to him stirring. The sun had moved quite a bit and he thought it was possibly around lunchtime. She had a death grip on one of his hands, and he could see her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at him with the most open look he'd ever seen on anyone.

She smiled.

"Harry Potter, you make a very good pillow."

He squeezed her hand, released it, and stretched. "Want to take a walk?"

She gazed off into space for a few seconds, then smiled even wider. "I think I would enjoy that, Harry Potter".

They stood up, and sauntered over to the lake. All of the swimmers had long abandoned the lake for something warmer – even with warming charms, it was the end of November, and eventually they got tired of having to continually recast. The BeethovenBirds had switched to the second movement of the Pathetique Sonata, which provided a pastoral backdrop to the still beautiful day, though it looked as if a few high clouds were approaching. They sat down on a bench. The Giant Squid was out in the middle of the lake, splashing around, occasionally tossing a merperson up into the air. A soft "wheeeee!" could be heard in the distance, coming from the general direction of the merperson. Harry chuckled.

Luna fidgeted with her hands in her lap, looking out at the lake. They sat in companionable silence. She closed her eyes and hummed a little song to herself.

Harry smiled. "What are you singing, Luna?"

She hummed a couple more bars, and then said "It's a lullaby. My mum used to sing it to me."

"Used to?"

"She died when I was nine."

"I'm sorry."

She was quiet for a little while. "So am I, Harry Potter." She paused. "My father loved her. He adored her. When she died... he was never the same."

She played with the hem of her dress.

"I hope someday I find someone who adores me as much as my father adored my mother."

They sat in silence for a little longer. The squid had started juggling several merpeople, who apparently were having the time of their life. He turned to look at her. In profile, she looked like no less an angel. The bench was under a tree, but the sun was filtering through the leaves, causing spots of different sizes and intensities to shimmer over them as the leaves moved in the wind. Sadness was plain on her face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Harry said nothing. He only lifted up an arm, and she accepted his invitation, snuggling into his side, with her head on his shoulder resting against his neck, and putting her legs on the bench. He played with her soft, blond hair, and a few moments later, he felt her shudder, and the tears started to flow. She cried quietly, tears running down her cheeks and splashing onto his shoulder.

Harry simply allowed her to cry.

After a few moments, the tears slowed to a trickle, and then stopped altogether. She wiped at her eyes with her arm, and then looked up at him.

"Thank you Harry Potter."

He smiled, and gently kissed her forehead, a gesture full of affection for his newfound friend. "I promise you will find what you are looking for, Luna. A pure heart such as yours is a treasure."

His stomach growled. She laughed, a musical, tinkly laugh that he thought he would like to hear more of. "Let's get lunch."

Harry agreed, he cast a drying charm on his shirt and conjured a tissue for her, and they walked back to the castle, two new but fast friends.

Scene Change

Harry sat down at the bench in the great hall, and Luna sat down at the Ravenclaw table, and both found themselves very hungry. Students were going in and out, eating food, enjoying their day off. Hermione walked into the great hall, and eyes downcast, walked up to Harry. She stood there for a few seconds, obviously trying hard to say something. Her lower lip was quivering.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know how I could have ever thought... I won't stand in your way."

Harry looked at her, pure confusion on his face. "What are you talking about?"

She pointed at Luna. "You and... her. I won't stand in your way. I hope you're happy together." She choked off a sob and ran out of the room.

Harry sighed to himself. Was the moment when he stopped caring the moment when the entire world just turned upside down? He was going to have to have a talk with her.

But after lunch. The elves really had outdone themselves yet again.

Scene Change

Harry entered the common room after lunch, and he found Hermione sitting on one of the couches. She was staring off into space, and her cheeks were wet.

He sat down next to her. She did not move. He tried to think of what to say. Finally, he decided on the direct approach.

"Hermione, what is going on?"

She looked at the fireplace, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Who was I kidding, Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, me. With the frizzy hair and the know-it-all attitude and the books and this body... who was I kidding to think you could ever want me?"

Inwardly, a counter in Harry's head went **ding** and flipped to the number 2. The caption in his mind's eye said "Number of crying girls served".

Harry sighed. "There's nothing wrong your body. There's nothing wrong with your hair. There's nothing wrong with being smart. There's nothing wrong with you, Hermione, except you have so little self esteem that you'll look at a girl kissing me on the cheek and think that somehow it means we're shagging like rabbits on a lust potion."

"It didn't mean anything?"

"Of course it meant something, Hermione. Luna is my friend. She is a pure, sweet soul, who wanted to thank me for something I did that directly benefited her. And I can't promise that she won't touch me again, or that I won't touch her. But I'm fourteen and she's twelve. I'm not really thinking like that. I'm pretty sure she's not either. She's had a hard life, Hermione, and sometimes people who've had a hard life need someone to talk to, or someone to hug. I know from bloody experience! How could I deny that to her?"

Hermione just gazed at the coals pulsing with deep red.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Harry. I don't know why I'm acting like this. I'm usually so logical and self-controlled, and then I think about how scared I am that I'm going to end up friendless and alone, and it terrifies me. I just lash out."

"You'll never be friendless, Hermione. Whether I end up with you, or Luna, or even Pansy" - both shuddered at the thought - "there will always be a place for you in my life. But you can't claim me. I don't belong to you, Hermione. And if you keep acting like this, I can't see it leading to anything good."

She watched the fire dancing in the fireplace.

"I have a lot to think about, Harry. Can you leave me alone for a while?"

Harry nodded. But before he left, he reached over and kissed her cheek. She smiled faintly and murmured her thanks, and he stood up and walked out of the room. But before he did so, he paused at the door.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"If you ever slap me again, I'll slap you back, and I won't hold back. That one was free."

He left through the portrait hole. The tears started to flow again as she realized how much she bollocksed it up.

Scene Change

That evening saw everyone in the Great Hall, having enjoyed their day off (and a few Beauxbatons girls were walking funny, so it would seem that some enjoyed it more than others). Little did they know that several surprising things would happen that evening.

The head table had one addition, a witch that he had not seen before. She appeared to be in her early 20s, with bubblegum pink hair.

Surprising thing number one happened after Harry sat down and before Dumbledore did his traditional speech. Draco Malfoy walked up to him, wearing his formal robes. He stopped and stood in front of Harry.

"Potter, I wish to have a word."

Harry turned around and said, simply, "I'm listening, Malfoy."

"Potter, we are not friends. I do not think that we will ever be friends. But upon consideration, I have realized that you were not raised in the wizarding world, and thus that your slight upon me the first time we met was not intentional. Furthermore, I have come to realize that I have repaid you many times over for that slight. So I hereby formally request a truce between myself, scion of the House of Malfoy, and you, last surviving member of the House of Potter. This is not an alliance, nor is it a friendship, but at the very least, let's start over."

Harry thought it over for a bit. "I accept, Malfoy. Perhaps we have both grown some in the last three years."

Draco extended his hand, and Harry shook it. Draco then turned on his heel and walked back to his table, where the quiet, shocked queries of his housemates went unheeded for the time being.

Dumbledore smiled from the head table, and rang his goblet with his fork, as was his custom.

"Ah, young people, by your glowing faces I see that you have quiet enjoyed the day. Quite fortuitous that it was also a quite spectacular day for the end of November, wouldn't you say? I dare say the Giant Squid was having quite the day as well... ahh. Now for a few announcements.

"The Defense against the Dark Arts position will be taken up by Nymph... I mean, Tonks." he hastily corrected himself at her glare. "She is a recent graduate of Hogwarts and an Auror trainee, and the ministry has graciously agreed to give her a leave of absent while we find a permanent person to fill this role. I expect you to give her the same respect you would any other member of the Hogwarts staff.

"The position of Slytherin head of house will be taken up by Professor Vector. You will get to know her tonight. Professor Snape will continue teaching potions to fourth year and above, but I believe you will find these classes to be very educational. He will also be spending more time making medicinal potions for our own healer Pomfrey and St. Mungos.

"Remember, there is a mandatory house meeting in all four of your houses tonight. Be sure to attend. Tuck in!"

And with those words, food appeared on the tables and everyone started digging in.

After dinner, which was mostly uneventful, except for Fred and George attempting a prank, and finding themselves headed off at the pass by Dumbledore, who turned the prank back on them, they all walked back to their common room and settled down in chairs, waiting for McGonagall. She showed up at 7 PM on the dot, and commanded the presence of the room.

"Gryffindor House, we the teachers and faculty of Hogwarts would first like to offer an apology. We have not been fulfilling our duties. We have created an environment where bullying is rife and rampant, and where students – children – are left to fend for themselves. That is why we have decided to crack down on bullying and other forms of antisocial behavior."

A voice came from the back of the room "Finally, someone's telling those slimy snakes what's what!"

The professor stated forcefully, "Mr. Weasley! That will be fifty points from Gryffindor, and you will see me in my office after this meeting! Now sit down and shut up!"

She tool a moment to collect herself.

"Now, unlike what your classmate here seems to believe, _all_ houses were affected by this behavior, including yours.

"Professor Dumbledore made the rules very clear at earlier, but for those of you that were not there, I will briefly recap. You are not required to like your fellow students, but you are required to treat them with respect. You will not draw your wand on them with intent to harm. You will not call them demeaning names, you will not steal or otherwise molest their property, and you will be civil to your peers at all times. We may go a little easy on you as far as punishments go while you adapt to these rules, but punishments will be up to and including calling your parents, suspension, expulsion, and in extreme cases, referral to law enforcement. We are _not joking_.

"I also recognize, on a personal note, that I have not been very accessible as your head of house. That will change.

"I will now open the floor to questions."

A fourth year student piped up. "Professor, are professors required to adhere to the same standards?"

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, they are. I know precisely about whom you are referring, and we have taken steps to rectify that problem. If you experience anything other than professionalism from any professor, please see me or the headmaster immediately. This does not mean that you can report them for just anything – we are still allowed and expected to keep order in the school – but it does mean that you will be treated in a respectful and civil manner at all times.

Angelina Johnson spoke up. "Professor, why now? I've been a part of Hogwarts for six years now and no one seemed to care. What happened?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. Let us leave it at this: I am and always have been in full support of these measures. Any other questions?"

The room was quiet.

"Alright, then. Meeting adjourned. Mr Weasley, come with me."

She and Ron left the room, her fingers twitching like they wanted to grab his ear.

Scene Change

Ron was standing in front of McGonagall in her office, as she was sitting behind her desk. She peered over he glasses at Ron, and then said, very slowly and deliberately, like she was trying to hold herself back from clocking him one, "Ronald.

"In all my years of teaching at this school, I have rarely met a student who is more proud of being utterly unaware of their environment as you. It takes a special kind of lack of awareness, Mr. Weasley, to make a comment about 'slimy snakes" in the midst of a house meeting – and moreso, a house meeting whose sole purpose was to announce that this kind of behavior was not to be tolerated. I know you were in the Great Hall when Professor Dumbledore stated that these changes were coming. Were you not listening?"

Ron looked confused. "I was eating."

'Well, that explains everything", McGonagall said, only half sarcastically.

"Mr. Weasley, I am going to give you this one and final warning. You will not speak against the Slytherins again. You will not call them 'slimy snakes', you will not call them "evil", you will not call them "dark lords in training", you will treat them with the same respect that you would your own housemates."

Ron looked angry. "But-"

"If you do not heed my warning", McGonagall spoke over him, "There will not be detentions, as detentions have proven to be completely ineffective with someone as intractable as you. No, I will go right to calling your mother, and if it proves to be impossible for her to curb your behavior, you will be suspected and/or expelled. Am I clear, Mr. Weasley?"

He nodded.

"Yes or no, Mr. Weasley."

"Yes", he mumbled.

"Alright then. Dismissed. Off with you."

Ron left her office, thoroughly cowed. Mcgonagall thought it might be a good idea to make sure that Molly and Arthur were aware of the new rules anyway, and got some parchment and a quill. She also thought she would do so to warn Molly that sending howlers were also a violation of the new rules, and to let her know in no uncertain terms that that would no longer be acceptable.

Scene Break

Near the forbidden forest, the MozartBirds and the BeethovenBirds faced off, as large groups. One bird of each variety stepped out of the crowd of brightly colored birds, and stared at each other.

The BeethovenBird chirped the four note theme to his fifth symphony.

The MozartBird whistled the melody to the Sonata in C Major.

The BeethovenBird whistled a few bars of the Emperor Concerto.

The MozartBird whistled a few bars of the Marriage of Figaro Overture.

The BeethovenBird sang the chorus from Hallelujah at the Mount of Olives.

The MozartBird charged the BeethovenBird and there was a huge fight. All of the different birds sang a cacophony of different motifs from their different composers, and it was a huge racket. A light in Hagrid's hut came on and curses could be heard coming from there as Fang started barking.

The ChopinBird was ready with a funeral march for the loser.

A/N Several things. First off, reviews seem to be broken and FF seems to be asleep at the wheel. I am getting emails with your reviews but I cannot reply to them and they're not showing up. I have no idea when it's going to be fixed. I am still reading them as they come in, and I'll reply as appropriate.

Secondly, while nearly all of the reviews I've received have been either complementary (thanks) or constructive (thanks), I received one today that called a joke I did in the third chapter "stupid". So here's the deal. I have a surrealist sense of humor. I think it's the height of humor to intersperse movie quotes, etc., into dialog and treat them as if they were just normal. Some may not agree. To them, I say – why the hell are you reading this? Go find something else more to your liking. I write for me and for those who appreciate my style of writing. Just for that, I might make it a plot point. I stick my tongue out at those who don't like it. I marked this "humor" for a reason, even if it's subtle. I take the story seriously, but not that seriously. And if you do, just go, for everyone's sake, including yours, alright?

Otherwise, thanks for reading. I have some interesting things planned.

Read? Like? Review. Read? Suggestion for improvement? Review. Read? Think it's stupid? Find something you like better.

Update: 7/23/16: Added some descriptive detail, spelling fixes, a few non story affecting changes.


	7. Cats and Dogs Living Together

Disclaimer: Not Rowling. No Money. Stop asking.

Ron was so preoccupied with his own thoughts (which were not, unusually enough, about food or quidditch) that he did not notice Hermione standing outside McGonagall's office, waiting for her to finish up. She knocked on the door, and hearing the magic word "enter", she walked in.

McGonagall looked up from her desk in surprise, setting her quill down.

"Miss Granger? What do you need?"

"Do you... do you have a moment to talk?" Hermione said primly.

"Sit down", the stern deputy headmistress said. "I don't bite."

"That's not what the Weasley twins say", Hermione said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. McGonagall's eyes widened.

"Oh did they?", she said, her lips pursed. "We will just see about that."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -", Hermione stammered.

Hermione was surprised when McGonagall smiled. "Miss Granger, don't you think I have those two pegged by now? Do you know what they used to call me when I was your age?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Miss Tricks. My record for pranks was not beat until the Marauders came on the scene. I remember one time I spelled Agatha Bartle's clothing to be invisible to everyone but her..."

Hermione stifled a laugh.

McGonagall's lips were schooled back into a firm line. "Of course, if I find out you told anyone, I will have to make sure that Hagrid has a particularly well-fed hippogriff to clean up after, do I make myself clear?"

Hermione nodded rapidly.

"So to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Miss Granger?"

She blurted out "Why don't I have any friends, Professor? I try so hard..."

McGonagall sighed and sat back in her chair. She steepled her fingers in a very Dumbledore-like way and thought about her answer for a minute. Hermione waited quietly but expectantly.

"Miss Granger – may I call you Hermione while in this room? You may call me Minerva – but only while in this room."

Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, you may have heard it said by quite a few people that you are the 'brightest witch of this age'. I assure you, that in some ways, it is a title you have earned. Your marks are not only the highest of your year, but among the highest in the school."

Hermione flushed and lowered her head.

"But that being said, if you were graduating today and coming to me for a job, even with all of your intelligence, there are two jobs I would never hire you for. I would never hire you to be a teacher, nor would I hire you to be a researcher."

Hermione turned beet red, out of shame and embarrassment. "Why-?", she started.

Mcgonagall raised her hand. "If you will wait just a moment, I will explain. Hermione, there is more to life than being smart. You are very book smart. You know how to study, and you know how to regurgitate what you have read in such a way as to get good marks. You also are very diligent with your study and practice. These are all very good traits. But for all that, you have never learned how to take that leap beyond book smarts. There are many different kinds of intelligence.

"Everyone speaks their own language, Hermione. Even though we are using the same words, the words we are using have different meanings to us. A word that may mean nothing to you may be highly offensive to another person, and the opposite is also true. In the same way, facts are also malleable. What you read in a book may be factually true, but there are shades of grey to even the most hard and fast of facts, if you dig down deep enough. And for as smart as you are, Hermione, you have yet to learn that sometimes it is not as important to be right as to learn what language others are speaking, and to learn to speak it back to them."

Hermione stayed silent, pondering what she was being told.

"You insist on being right, and you take it as a personal affront when you are not. What you need to learn is that it is not as important to be right as it is to be able to understand others and be able to accept that you may be wrong. Even when you still believe you're right. If you don't develop this skill, Hermione, you could be the smartest witch in the world, and you will never be happy."

"Why would you not hire me as a researcher? Isn't being intelligent important for that job?"

"It is, Hermione. But true intelligence requires far more than regurgitating facts. Anyone can do that if they try hard enough. It requires creativity, it requires being able to connect several disparate things together in a way that is not immediately obvious, and while you do show glimmers of that ability, you are still hampered by the fact that you believe facts to be king."

Hermione nodded. "I don't really understand, but I will think about it."

"Why don't you take a risk, Hermione? Talk to someone you wouldn't ordinarily talk to. You might be rejected, but you might just make a new friend."

Hermione smiled wanly. It was clear that McGonagall's words had affected her deeply – cut her to the core. She stood up. "Thank you for your time... M-Minerva"

McGonagall smiled. "Please, Hermione, come and see me anytime. For as harsh as I just was to you, you are very much like me when I was young. I want to see a bright and driven young woman such as you succeed."

Hermione nodded and left the room, deep in thought.

Scene Change

The BeethovenBirds and the MozartBirds were now in a full out brawl, and all of the other types of composerbirds were standing on the sidelines. One of the MalmsteinBirds ran into something disillusioned, and emitted a huge and complex string of chords and running notes that caused all of the birds to stop in their tracks. They came over to see what the MalmsteinBird had discovered.

After they realized what they discovered, they sent a ChopinBird, because it was the most qualified to do what needed to be done. The ChopinBird flew to Hagrid's hut.

PECK PECK PECK dummm dum-da dummmm

Hagrid cursed some more. "Wha' is goin' on out there, makin' all that racket, why did magic hafta go out and make all those feckin' composer birds?"

PECK PECK PECK dummm dum-da dummmm

"Why is that bird singing a funeral march and pecking at my window?"

Fang turned his head to the side and looked very, very confused.

Hagrid opened the door to his hut, and there was a ChopinBird, looking kind of frantic, walking around in circles and singing the first few notes of Chopin's Funeral March.

"Do ya want me ta follow ya?", Hagrid asked. The bird sang a mazurka and started leading Hagrid to what the birds had discovered.

There were thousands of birds standing in the field, but they all made a path for Hagrid to walk, until he finally stopped and a strangely clear patch of grass. He pocked and prodded the patch with his wand, and suddenly stopped. It was a disillusioned person! And he or she didn't seem to be breathing.

"Oh holy mother of Zeus... I hafta find Dumbledore. Thanks, birds! What do ya eat?"

A WelkBird started whistling "Glow Little Glow Worm", and then said "Wunnaful! Wunnaful!"

Hagrid smiled. "I'll get ya a whole cart full of worms for this. Gotta go get Dumbledore. Great man, that Dumbledore." He ran as fast as his thick legs could take him to the castle, while all the different birds chattered excitedly at their impending feast.

Scene Change

Hagrid came burstin into Dumbledore's office. "Headmaster! Come quick! There's a body!"

"Fawkes! Go get Pomfrey!" Fawkes trilled, and flamed out, flaming back about three seconds later with a very surprised Pomfrey. A very surprised and naked Pomfrey. A very surprised, naked, and sudsy Pomfrey. She shrieked. And jiggled.

"Honestly, Albus. How many times have I told you to be SPECIFIC with that bloody bird?"

Fawkes trilled in such a way to show he was not in the least sorry, and then turned his back and preened.

Dumbledore stuttered out an apology and waved his wand. After two seconds, not only was she dry, but she was wearing a nice, satin transfigured robe.

Poppy blushed. "Umm, Dumbledore, I know you beat for the other team, but a woman's body is kind of sensitive, and satin..." She shivered, not unpleasantly.

He sighed, and changed it to terrycloth. She shivered a little more, than murmured her thanks.

"My apologies, Poppy, but Hagrid told me he found a body. Come, let us make haste."

Hagrid then led Pomfrey and Dumbledore to the body (they did not take Fawkes because he couldn't carry a half giant and the other two). Dumbledore immediately disillusioned the body, and found it to be Barty Crouch. So that's why he didn't show up at the first task, he said to himself. He also found it to be dead.

After doing his diagnostics, and Pomfrey agreeing, he stood up. He told Hagrid and Pomfrey to stand back, and also chased around the composerBirds who were still hanging around. A FolkBird whistled "This Old Man", to which Dumbledore chuckled. After the area was clean, Dumbledore set up containment wards, and walked back to his office to floo Amelia. This was now a crime scene. He didn't envy her trying to figure this one out.

Scene Change

Alas, Amelia had figured it out. She spent nearly that whole day interrogating Crouch Jr. under veritaserum. From Crouch she learned many useful things. She learned that Pettigrew was still alive. She learned that he had killed his father and dumped him near the forbidden forest. She learned that the dark mark could not be forced upon someone, and that everyone who had one had taken it willingly. She learned the names of a few marked death eaters, but not too many. She learned that Pettigrew was a marked death eather. And most importantly, she learned how and why Harry was entered into the tournament.

She did not learn where Riddle was hiding, though. Apparently he put that knowledge under the fidelius, and Crouch was not the secret keeper.

After she was done with the interrogation, she took all of her notes, as well as a pensieve memory, and made several copies. One copy she took back to her home. Another copy she stored in her office. And a third copy she sent to Dumbledore, along with a request for an appointment at his earliest convenience.

She did not fully trust Dumbledore, but she was going to have to deal with Cornelius, and she did not trust the slippery little... politician... further than she could throw his round, corpulent body.

Several people had been by to see Crouch. Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and most worryingly, Lucius Malfoy. But no one was going to get to him on her watch. She left an Auror guard watching Crouch with strict instructions to curse anyone mercilessly who would not take "no" for an answer, and went home for the evening. Tomorrow, the defecation was gong to impact the rotary oscillator, she was going to have to send a team of aurors to search for Crouch's body.

One floo call from Dumbledore later, she revised her thought. No, the was going to impact the rotary oscillator tonight.

Scene Change

The following morning, in the Great Hall (It was Thursday the 26th of November), many owls came swooping down with mail and copies of the Daily Prophet. There were, as was to be expected, quite a few headlines, all of them far less sensational than the headlines that Skeeter would have come up with.

In all the hubbub, though it would be easy to miss one of the more significant events to have occurred in that room. Hermione walked in, and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. She sat next to Luna.

Luna sat quietly eating, and turned to look at Hermione. "Hermione Granger. The nargles told me you would be sitting here this morning."

"Hello, Luna, do you mind if I sit here?"

Luna chewed on her eggs. "That would be wonderful, Hermione Granger. It would be almost like having friends."

Hermione got her food as well, and started eating.

"What are Nargles, Luna?"

"Nargles tell me sometimes what is going to happen before it does. Sometimes they lie, but not often."

"I didn't know they existed."

Luna stopped eating, and looked at Hermione with an unusually piercing gaze.

"Do you believe in God?"

"I'm Anglican."

"Close enough. Have you ever seen him?"

Hermione shook her head.

"And yet you believe he exists."

"Well, yes."

"Why?"

"... I don't know. Because stuff... exists?"

Luna smiled. "Then you understand. I believe in Nargles because they tell me things and it happens."

"But what if they were something else?"

"What if something else created the Universe?"

Hermione thought for a while.

"The Universe exists, so something created it... you know things are going to happen before they do, so something told you."

And McGonagall's lesson finally kicked in. It was language. It may or may not be nargles, but Luna was trying to put something into words that she didn't know how to put into words, so she called them nargles. Maybe they existed, maybe they didn't, but they were real to Luna, and that's all that matters.

"I understand now, Luna."

Luna smiled. "The nargles told me you would. You have far fewer wrackspurts than you did yesterday."

They both ate their breakfast, chattering companionably.

Harry looked at them with abject astonishment from the Gryffindor table. He rubbed his eyes and cleaned his glasses, then blinked, and looked again. No, it was true. Luna and Hermione were chatting amiably with each other. There was no shouting, no raised voices, they even seemed to be enjoying themselves.

If this was what came from not caring, he was going to not care forever. If he cared.

An owl picked that moment to land next to him and present its leg. He grabbed the letter, the owl grabbed a piece of bacon, and swept off.

He read the letter.

 _Harry, please see me in my office tonight at 8 PM. We still have a lot to discuss. -Albus._

Harry smiled. Maybe things were finally going right.

A/N I am very interested in things such as philosophy. You might see more discussions like the one between Hermione and Luna.

You thought the composerbirds were just me being silly? No, they're a part of the plot. Maybe not a huge part, but they're in-universe.

It looks like that talk Harry had with Dumbles set a ball rolling downhill, and it's picking up steam, wouldn't you say?

Update 7/23/16: A few spelling fixes, some non story impacting changes. All of the chapters have had fixes applied as of this update.


	8. Amelia Ain't Kidding Around!

Disclaimer: Oh, sod it all, you know the bloody drill.

Meanwhile, at the Ministry of Magic, Amelia was preparing for a very difficult meeting with the Minister of Magic, one Cornelius Fudge. Fudge was a politician, and while she had always had her suspicions she was never able to prove, a very corrupt one at that. He and Lucius Malfoy were in closed-door meetings much of the time, and Fudge was able to afford things that he should not have been able to afford on his salary, as high as it was. He was very proud of his collection of Maserati, Lotus, and Corvette brooms, showing them off to anyone who was willing.

Grasping copies of the arrest and interrogation records of both Rita Skeeter and Barty Crouch Jr., she squared her shoulders and stepped into the anteroom.

Percy Weasley was sitting at the desk, busily rubber stamping papers. He looked up. "Oh, yes, Director Bones. The minister is expecting you." He went back to stamping.

Amelia walked in to the office.

"Ah, Director Bones, please have a seat."

Amelia sat, on her guard. Something didn't seem right.

"Director Bones, why did you arrest Rita Skeeter?"

"She is an unregistered animagus. You'd know this if you'd read the reports. Here, I brought another copy". She placed it on his desk.

"Yes, yes, that won't be necessary. I want you to release her."

Amelia was shocked. "Release her? Whatever for? She has done more to sow discord in magical Britain than anyone else I can think of, and she used her abilities to gain access to places she should never have been able to enter."

"Be that as it may, she has also done a great service to the ministry. Director, you know as well as I do that the people are sheep and will go wherever the media leads, and Skeeter is, what do they call it, a 'useful idiot'. If you do not release her, I will grant her a full pardon, and I will have your job. Remember, Amelia, you work for me."

"With all respect, Minister, I do not work for you, I work for the people. The wizengamot appointed me, and only they can fire me. I will not be releasing her."

"I will either have her release or your resignation. You have one day."

Amelia's lips tightened. This was going about as well as she thought it would.

"Or what, Minister?"

Fudge did not respond to that question. Instead, he said, "Now on to the topic of Barty Crouch Jr."

"Yes, Minister, about that. Why is it that we have several Death Eaters rotting away in Azkaban, but this is the only time I can find on record that we actually interrogated one?"

"Well, yes, those were tough times -"

"So tough that we were sending people to prison without an interrogation, Minister? You know, I discovered some very interesting things upon interrogating Crouch. Did you know that it is impossible to take the dark mark while under the imperius? It must be of your own free will. I discovered that with only a few drops of veritaserum."

Fudge paled. Why, or why, did he have to be stuck with someone who would actually do her job?

"Director, that is a state secret."

Amelia surrepetitiously readied her wand.

"Oh, is it, Minister? Why is it a state secret? Are you protecting someone?"

He was faster than he looked. He whipped out his wand and shouted "Obliviate". He missed, because he also was about as accurate as he looked. Amelia shot him back with a stunner, and called for backup. It was time to clean house in the ministry.

A few minutes later, Amelia had Fudge in another holding cell. She began her interrogation. After placing three drops of veritaserum on his tongue, she began the questioning.

"Please state your name."

"Cornelius Fudge."

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"No."

"Are you a supporter of Voldemort?"

"No."

"Who are you protecting?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

"Why?"

"He transfers one thousand galleons a month into my personal Gringotts account. In return, I make sure that his interested are protected.."

"Is that why there are no records of interrogations for any of the Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban?"

"Yes."

"What are his interests?"

"I don't know for sure."

"What do you think his interests are?"

"Staying out of Azkaban, making money, and advancing the cause of the purebloods."

"Do you know that Lucius is a Death Eater?"

"No."

"Do you suspect that Lucius is a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe his claim of being under the imperius?"

"No, but I want to."

"Do you know that Lucius has a Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

"Who is complicit with you in taking bribes?"

Fudge then rattled off a list of names, including Dolores Umbridge. Amelia Bones gave that list to her aurors (except for Dawlish, who was to be one of the arrestees), and told them to go out and fill up her holding cells. There were going to be a lot of interrogations very shortly.

Amelia made copies of this interrogation as well (along with the conversation that led to his arrest) and sent them along to Dumbledore.

She also sent word to have the sentences of everyone currently serving a sentence in Azkaban reviewed.

Scene Change

That morning, the Gryffindors had transfiguration. Hermione had thought carefully about what McGonagall – Minerva – had told her, and thought it was already reaping rewards with Luna. She had dismissed Luna as "looney", but she had come to realize from chatting with Luna that there was something more there – as Harry said, a sweet, pure soul who had abilities she did not understand and was very wounded by the loss of her mother. So it was a thoughtful Hermione that walked into the transfiguration classroom and sat down.

It was also a thoughtful Ron. While Ron was still generally clueless, McGonagall's extremely harsh lecture did put the fear of God into him, and he realized that he'd better shape up or he was very shortly going to find himself stuck at home with his (shudder) mother. So, while he did load up on food during breakfast, he resolved to himself that he was at least going to make an effort to pay attention in class today. Hermione wasn't always going to be there to help him with his homework.

So Hermione waited until the end of class, and stayed after. After everyone left, McGonagall looked up, and there was Hermione, standing there, books pulled against her chest, with a pensive look on her face.

"Professor, I have a question."

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"What about conservation of matter? How do you transfigure something large into something small, and vice versa?"

"The what?"

"Well, the Muggles discovered conservation of matter. It states that matter can neither be created or destroyed. So when you make something bigger, isn't matter created? And when you make it smaller, isn't it destroyed?"

McGonagall thought. "Honestly, Miss Granger, I don't know. Magic is a strange and fickle thing, and for some reason we have spent very little time actually researching what makes it work, we just research what can be done with it. If you want to research this for extra credit, I will grade your work at the end of the year."

Hermione smiled. That sounded like a fun project.

McGonagall also smiled – on the inside, anyway. Perhaps with a little nudging this young woman could change the world. If the world didn't destroy her first.

"Just to warn you, Miss Granger. Magic is almost sentient. It tends to do as it chooses, and your results may not make as much sense as you hope. There is a reason that we have spent very little time researching the mechanics of magic. At the end of the day, it just does what it wants. We suspect it may serve us only out of choice."

Hermione nodded and left for lunch.

Later, after lunch, was double Defense against the Dark Arts. The students were chatting amongst themselves as they walked in, and suddenly a red light came from nowhere and Ron was dropped. Hermione and Harry jumped out of the way, but were also hit.

After Tonks had moved all of the bodies to their desks, she ennervated them. Everyone looked around, wondering what had happened.

Tonks smiled, and her face morphed briefly into Moody's.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!", she yelled, and then morphed her face back to its original shape.

"I can see we have a lot of work to do. I got the drop on every single one of you and I didn't even have to try. I just pointed my wand and you all dropped – even after you saw your classmates go down. Put your books away, today we are going to duel."

Harry smiled. This was going to be fun.

Hermione actually won, after having faced off against Harry in the finals. Ron was disqualified very early, and Neville seemed to have difficulty controlling his wand (as is a problem many teenage boys have). Tonks walked over to Neville and asked to see his wand.

Neville whipped his wand out. Tonks grabbed his wand gently and inspected it thoroughly, paying careful attention to it. She rubbed it a little bit, sniffed it, and made sure it was in perfect working order. Neville obviously appreciated the attention she was paying to his wand, it was nice to have an experienced witch examine it for a change. It just wasn't the same when he let a girl his age examine his wand – they weren't experienced and didn't know how to handle it, or even what to look for. Finally, she handed it back. She asked him to try to do something with it, and as much as he tried, he could only make it spurt a few sparks.

"Mr. Longbottom, I know why you have been having trouble with your wand. This wand isn't matched to you. I recommend you buy a new one as soon as possible, one that's more of a match for you. You are always going to have trouble with wanded magic for as long as you are using a wand that doesn't match you."

"B-but this was my father's wand! My gran will go spare if I buy a new wand!"

Tonks smiled. "I know Dowager Longbottom. I'll have a talk with her. Meanwhile, I know a spell that will temporarily make your wand work a little better for you by opening the focus channels, but you'll have to get it fixed. Pumping too much energy through an incompatible wand could cause it to stop working, or worse."

She pointed her wand at Neville's, and said "Sildenafilus". He felt it immediately – his wand just felt that little bit more attuned to him – like it was standing at attention, even throbbing a bit, waiting for him to put it to use. He trued a lumos spell, and sure enough, the light was a bit brighter.

Neville stammered, "Thank you, Professor Tonks." Secretly, though, he was pleased. His gran was far too interested in his wand for comfort, and buying a new one would let him put the museum piece he was currently holding. It's not as if he didn't appreciate that it was his father's, but if it didn't work, it didn't work.

Neville walked out with Harry and Hermione, Ron trailing behind. "I can't believe it might have been this wand holding me back all this time!"

Harry nodded. Hermione blushed – she had started thinking about Neville's wand.

Scene change.

That evening, Harry found himself at the Gargoyle, which stood aside without a word. He cheekily saulted the gargoyle, and it... turned around and mooned him? Oh, ew. Really?

He walked up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was waiting for him. Fawkes was sitting on his perch, back turned, trilling softly. The trills sounded a little like "Oh yeah... right there... who's your phoenix? Yeah, you like that?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore. "Is Fawkes...?"

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about, Harry."

Harry sat down.

"Harry, I want to tell you about the Mark of the Dragon."

Harry paid attention.

"The Mark of the Dragon is something of legend. There is only one other wizard who was documented to have been gifted the Mark. That was Mryydin Emrys – Otherwise known as Merlin Pendragon."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "THE Merlin Pendragon?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, Harry, the Merlin Pendragon". He put air quotes around the word "the".

"Legend has it that he was a parseltongue as well, and ran across a dragon with a thorn in its foot. And by thorn, I mean a several foot long tree branch. Merlin removed the thorn and healed the dragon. In return, the dragon offered him the Mark. From then on, whenever he needed assistance, he was able to call on any dragon and they would come if he needed them. This is one reason he had a reputation for being so powerful – what enemy could stand up to five dragons frying them to a crisp at once?"

"You mean I can...?"

"Try it, Harry."

He closed his eyes, and thought in his head, _Asperanth?_

 _Yes, young one?_ , the thought returned.

 _I can talk to you this way? Are you well?_

 _Yes, young Harry, I am well. I found a cave near the ocean, and my eggs are near to hatching. I am content._

 _I am glad to hear it. May we talk sometime?_

 _I look forward to it, young Harry._

He opened his eyes and looked in wonder at Dumbledore. "I can talk to her."

Dumbledore smiled. "Harry, you may have inadvertently stumbled on one of the keys to winning this war. Even Voldemort could not stand against multiple dragons. I must warn you, though, to keep this to yourself, as if this leaks out, it could mean losing a valuable advantage – that of surprise."

Harry agreed. "If anyone asks why the dragon touched me, I will just say she was healing my scar."

Dumbledore nodded. "And not too far from the truth, either."

"But before we can use this advantage, we must find his horcruxes."

"Should I bring Hermione into this?"

"If you wish. You are old enough to make your own decisions. But be sure you totally trust anyone you bring into your confidence. Your young friend, Luna Lovegood, may have some unique skills to add to the hunt as well."

"I'll ask her. I don't really know why, but I'd trust her with my life."

"Harry, Luna is a seer. Her abilities are untrained, but they are definitely extant."

Harry nodded. "The nargles."

"Yes, Harry. I suspect that is how she copes with all of the information she gets from her abilities."

"Is there any way that you could arrange some training for her...?"

Dumbledore thought. "Now that you mention it, there may be someone. I will get back to you on that shortly."

Harry nodded. That was all he could ask.

"The Mark of the Dragon is said to apply to all creatures of fire, not just dragons. That's why you could hear Fawkes."

Harry thought, _Fawkes?_

Fawkes did not move. _Go away, mortal. I'm having a great dream. Oh yeah, shake those feathers._

Harry shuddered. "Your phoenix is a pervert."

Dumbledore laughed, harder than Harry had ever seen. "Oh, Harry, you have no idea. There was this time I caught him with a feather duster..."

Harry waved his arms. "I really don't want to know!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Neither did I, Harry."

Harry thought. _A featherduster?_

The response came back, _Oh, like you haven't..._

Harry blushed and mentally dismissed the bird, who went on to chatter about rockin' robins.

"Now on to other business. Harry, I would like for you to go to Diagon Alley and the Ministry with me on Saturday. There is some business that we have long put off that needs to be addressed.

Harry nodded. "That sounds like fun."

Dumbledore looked grave. "It may not be all fun and games.'

"Since when is anything in my life fun and games, professor?"

Dumbledore signed sadly. "Just so, Harry. Just so."

Harry and Dumbledore chatted for a little longer before Harry finally went to bed. Dumbledore looking out his big windows at the night sky, and all the stars, wondering whether he could ever atone for the damage he caused, to Harry, and to the British wizarding world.

A/N: And so the action starts. I've made a few executive decisions. Amelia does not answer to the Minister – his threats are empty and actually even a little sinister in that context. There are checks and balances, but she has the right to arrest anyone in magical Britain, including the minister and members of the wizengamot. Things are about to blow wide open, I should think. What will the fallout be?

Read? Like? Review!

Oh, and speaking of reviews, this story topped 100 reviews. I am very grateful for the overwhelming support. I am also grateful for the constructive criticism. But with regard to that, I do want to say something: I am not a walking encyclopedia of Harry Potter. I will get things wrong. I promise I will get things wrong. There are actually a couple of errors I've made that I decided to keep because they help the story. So if you find what you believe is an error – don't be rude. It very well may be. It also may very well be an intentional decision. And rudeness is never welcome. Thanks.


	9. Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!

Disclaimer: I cannot tell you how utterly stupid I find the idea of this disclaimer. it's as if someone could actually mistake me for - wait. One reviewer said they were getting JK vibes from my writing. Alright. Fine. I'm not JK Rowling. I'm not JK Rowling under polyjuice as a 40 year old overweight guy with a goatee, I'm not JK Rowling wearing glamours, I'm not JK Rowling with a breast reduction band and a rather large pillow. And if I were making money off of this, I'd make a dime or two, it's kinda crap. But I'm not. So take my word for it. Not Rowling, not making money, my currency is in reviews and even the residuals on that are going down.

After her very fruitful "interview" with Fudge. Amelia marched up to the undersecretary's office along with two of her best aurors, and found Dolores Umbridge sitting in her chair, staring off into space. She still looked like a rather fat toad. She turned to Amelia.

"Can I help you?", she simpered in her sickeningly sweet voice.

She had three wands immediately pointed at her.

"Hands where I can see them!"

Her sweet smile immediately turned to a sneer and she lunged out of her chair at the aurors, her wand bring brought up. "Cruc-"

Three stunners brought her down. Amelia turned to her Aurors. "Lock her up, and add the attempted use of an unforgivable to her charges". They nodded and levitated her out.

A little later, she, along with both Aurors, walked into her office to debrief from that arrest and do the paperwork, to find Lucius Malfoy sitting in a chair. He stood up and said, with a sneer on his face,

"Madame Bones, I most protest the arrest of -"

"Stupefy".

He dropped to the floor. She looked down at his body, a small shiver of pleasure running up her spine. "You're under arrest, Malfoy."

She turned to her aurors. "You know the drill". They did. After Malfoy was on his way to a holding cell, she smiled to herself.

"I've always wanted to drop that insufferable ponce.", she said to herself, a goofy smile on her face. After another shudder of pleasure, she started working on the paperwork.

After those arrests and a few others besides, Amelia went down to the holding cells. She walked up to the cell with Malfoy in it. He was wearing nothing but prison issue underwear, because she did not trust anything he was wearing to not have some kind of magical assist built in. He sneered at her. "Have you come to release me?"

She smiled predatorily. "No. Stupefy". He dropped again.

"Check his teeth", she said. "I don't want him biting down on a capsule of something."

They checked his teeth, and they found one that was suspect. One evanesco later, and it was gone.

Finally, after she was satisfied that he was not going anywhere, she ordered him bound, given veritaserum, and enervated..

"What is your name?", she asked.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

"What is your occupation?"

"I trade valuable commodities."

"What is your relationship with Minister Fudge?"

"I give him bribes and he does my bidding."

"What is thy bidding?"

"I serve my Lord by advancing the cause of the purebloods."

She scratched some writing on her notepad.

"What is the cause of the purebloods?"

"The eradication of everyone with impure blood from the world."

"Who qualifies as having impure blood?"

"Halfbloods, Mudbloods, and magical creatures."

"Why do you dislike them so much?"

"Because I have watched the decline of pureblood society and find it distasteful."

"Did you know Voldemort is a half blood named Tom Riddle?"

"No."

"Do you believe me?"

"No."

"You mentioned you serve your Lord. Who is your Lord?"

"Voldemort."

"Is he dead?"

"I do not believe he is."

"Why?"

"My mark has been getting darker."

"Did you take that mark willingly?"

"Yes."

"What did you have to do to get that mark?"

"Rape and kill a muggle family."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"Have you committed any other crimes that I do not know about?"

"Yes."

"What are they?"

He then proceeded to list off crimes that caused one of her aurors to be sick, and the other to run out to get some fresh air.

"- and I am a fan of Jerry Springer", he finished.

"Do you feel remorse for any of your crimes?"

"No, except for being a fan of Jerry Springer."

She nodded to herself. That was unforgivable.

"Tell me the names of every death eater, current and former, that you know of."

He rattled off a list of names, but towards the end, it became clear that the veritaserum was beginning to wear off and he appeared to be trying to bite into something.

"You are missing a tooth. What did that tooth contain?"

"A potent contact nerutoxin. It would have killed me, but I would have spat it on you and you would have died as well."

"If I were to search your manor, would I find anything illegal?"

"Yes."

"What would I find?"

"A dungeon full of Muggle women and children, and some corpses. A cache of dark artifacts. A lot of stolen money."

She smiled. "I think I have all I need. Leave him bound. I don't want him going anywhere." The aurors saluted, after having recovered from his descriptions of his crimes.

Before she left, she turned around, and punched him in the gut. "Jerry Springer? You sicko!"

And she walked out.

Scene Change

Amelia walked into the cell where Umbridge was being held. She, too, had been stripped down. Amelia tried very hard not to look, because she really did look like a toad. They did the same tooth check on her, but found nothing. They gave her the same treatment they did Malfoy.

"What is your name?"

"Dolores Jane Umbridge."

"What is your position in the ministry?"

"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"No."

"Do you want to be a Death Eater?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I do not wish to do what is required to get a mark."

"Do you support Voldemort's goals?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because half-breeds and mudbloods are a stain on this society that must be eradicated."

"Why do you think that?"

"None of them will bone me."

Amelia looked at her Aurors with her mouth dropped open. Could she really be that banal? She decided to try a different line of questioning.

"Did you accept bribes?"

"Yes."

"Who did you accept them from?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

"What did he bribe you to do?"

"Order the dementors to try to kill Potter."

"When?"

"Last year, during a Quidditch game."

"What else did he bribe you to do?"

"Have sex with Fudge."

The aurors lost what was left of their lunch.

"Do you know why?"

"It was partial payment to Fudge. He finds me attractive."

"Do you croak during - strike that." Amelia looked very embarrassed at what almost slipped out. Not professional, self, she thought to herself.

"I do not understand."

"... Have you committed any other crimes?"

"No."

"Have you committed anything that I would consider a crime?"

"Yes."

"What did you do?"

"Watched Jerry Springer along with Fudge."

Amelia stood up and turned around. "I have all I need. Leave her bound for now. No one is to see any of these prisoners, no matter what. When it comes time for them to eat, you may release them from their bindings. I have a bunch of other people to arrest."

Amelia sighed. It was going to be another long day.

A few hours later, she had a surprisingly large fraction of the wizengamot in her holding cells for being death eaters. How she was going to get through these interrogations before the year ended, she didn't know. She needed to talk to Albus.

Scene Change

The next morning, as Harry came down from his dorm into the common room, he found Luna Lovegood sitting placidly on the couch near the fire.

"Luna?", he said, walking over and sitting next to her. "What are you doing in here?"

Luna smiled. "I knew the password so I came in. Would you like to get breakfast, Harry Potter?"

"Sure, Luna", he said, and they both stood up. But before they could leave, Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Luna Lovegood? What are you doing in here. Shouldn't you be in your own house?"

"Hello Professor McGonagall", she said, placidly.

"Out!", she said lips pressed together. Luna shrugged and started moving towards the portrait hole.

Harry put his hand out to stop her. "Wait."

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing? I told her to leave", McGonagall said.

"And I told her to wait, professor. Professor, what was it that Professor Dumbledore said the other day, about our houses not being rivals, but instead there to help us find community around those most like us? Did he say that?"

"He did, Potter. Get to the point. I do not take countermanding an order of mine lightly."

"Well, Luna has found community with me and other members of this house – community she never found with those of her own house. Is that not in the very spirit of what Professor Dumbledore was saying about what houses should be to us? If Luna wants to spend time with us in our common room, why should she not be allowed to? What good does putting passwords on the common rooms do except to heighten that sense of separation?"

McGonagall was brought up short, and her lips pursed in thought.

"You raise a reasonable point, Mr. Potter. I will take it under advisement. For now, though, rules are rules. Luna, please leave."

Harry nodded. "That's all I ask, Professor. We were getting breakfast anyway. Miss Lovegood, care to join me?", he said jauntily, putting one hand on the small of Luna's back and guiding her to the hole. Luna, for her part, was happy to be guided. She would never tell Potter, but she enjoyed it greatly when he touched her. It felt as if she was being washed clean by his energy and she always felt lighter and happier afterwards. She reached up impulsively and hugged him.

He smiled and hugged her back. She kissed his cheek and disentangled herself from him, smiling brightly.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, but her eyes were a little moist. It was beautiful how they seemed to bring out the best in each other.

Harry and Luna walked out of the hole, Luna's eyes shining brighter than they had in a long time. It was not almost like having friends. It was having friends! It was! And she found she liked it very much.

Instinctively, she grabbed Harry's hand and skipped all the way to the Great Hall, singing about plimpies. Harry just smiled and walked along with her, making no effort at all to release her hand. On the way, the ran into Hermione, who looked at their hands, grabbed Harry's other hand, and skipped along with Luna all the way to breakfast.

There was something to be said for allowing yourself to be a child.

Hermione was finally learning this lesson, amongst others.

Scene Change

It was a lovely Friday. The GriegBirds were out singing their morning song, while Hagrid, whistling a tume, dragged an entire cart of worms out to the edge of the forbidden forest. The GriegBird stopped singing for a bit, and then sang a tune that was entirely out of character for a GriegBird, a TchaikovskyBird, a GershwinBird, or any of the magical, musical birds that inhabited the forests and lawns of Hogwarts.

It sang the first stanza of "Shortnin' Bread."

A bird far off in the distance whistled the same time.

Before you could say "These birds are nuts", birds of all shapes, sizes, varieties, colorings, and composer bias were flooding by the thousands towards Hagrid and his cart, climbing all over it, Hagrid, and the ground for meters around. Hagrid flapped his arms and ran off, yelling something about "Little musical buggering blighters!". They did not notice. Too many worms, too little time.

Scene Change

Amelia and Dumbledore were having a meeting in Dumbledore's office, that morning.

"Alright, Amelia", Dumbledore was saying, "Let me see if I have the right of this. You have, over the past two days, arrested a large fraction of the wizengamot, the minister, his undersecretary, and quite a few marked death eaters?"

Amelia nodded. "You have the right of it."

Dumbledore sighed. "What triggered this?"

"The arrest of Barty Crouch. Did you know that there are no records of any interrogations of any marked death eaters, anywhere? Certainly none happened on my watch, but as near as I can tell, none happened before, as well. They very well might have, but there are no records of it. After I interrogated Crouch, I discovered that death eaters cannot be forced into taking a mark."

"Right, I recall you sending me memories of that interview."

"Well, that led me to Fudge, and I was able to nail him for accepting bribes. That led me to Umbridge and Malfoy, and let me tell you, Malfoy was the mother lode! Did you know he watches "Jerry Springer"?

Dumbledore shook his head gravely. "I was hoping that he had not fallen that far into the dark."

"We raided his home last night, and found, just as he said, a dungeon full of muggle women and children – and they had been reated like animals! We had to send them all to St. Mungos, and honestly, we don't know how many will recover.

"Albus, there is a power vacuum right now. We have no minister. Quite a bit of the wizengamot is gone. You're the Chief Warlock, so... guess it's time for you to do some warlocking."

Dumbledore sat back and steepled his fingers. He smiled. This was not the grandfatherly headmaster smile, this was the "Most powerful wizard in the world and five time best dressed award from Beating for the Other Team Monthly" smile. The one that made Voldemort fear him.

"Amelia, have you arrested enough members of the wizengamot to remove a quorum?"

"No, Albus, I – Albus... are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" She gained the same predatory smile."

"I think so, Amelia, but where are we going to find male models and a bucket full of tequila?"

"What? Albus?"

Albus smiled. "I'm thinking this is a perfect time to ram through a whole bunch of legislation that we could not while death eaters had such a sizable minority."

Amelia smiled. "Then, my dear friend, you are thinking exactly what I am."

Dumbledore smiled. "I will call a meeting today. Can you keep them imprisoned for a while?"

She huffed. "Albus, if I can even introduce a tenth of what they've done at trial, I'll get them the veil. I mean, really. Jerry Springer?"

Amelia left, and Albus started drafting legislation.

Omake

There was a full crowd in courtroom #10. Umbridge sat in the big chair, chains pulled tight over her thick, toadlike frame. Amelia was taking the lead in prosecuting.

"What do you want?", Umbridge asked, getting heated.

"I want the truth!", Amelia shouted.

"You want the truth? You can't handle the truth! Amelia, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by women with wands. Those walls protect us from half-bloods and half-breeds. Deep down inside, you want me on that wall! You need me on that wall!"

"Did you order the dementor attack?"

"You're damn right I did!"

There was silence, punctuated by the clearing of Amelia's throat.

"Request we clear the courtroom. The prisoner has rights."

The gavel pounded.

Umbridge looked confused, and then betrayed. "Wha- what's going on?"

"You're under arrest, ma'am."

A/N: As I'm writing this, although I did stack the deck a little by making it impossible for Fudge to stop Amelia, and by a few other things which I hinted at in this chapter, it strikes me how quickly the house of cards that is the corrupt British Magical government collapses with just one surgical strike in the right place. That strike, in this case, is a competent Amelia Bones, a somewhat loyal Auror corps, and one single death eater that she managed to get credible testimony from.

Have you ever noticed that the last death eaters to ever be interrogated – even in canon – were the Lestranges? At least 13 years from the events of GoF?

One, just one – a competent interrogator, and the will to do it, and Voldemort's power base goes away overnight. It does not look like Amelia is too interested in filling Azkaban. No, it looks like she's going for the throat.

We are heading for a plot point that is, if I am correct (and I think I am) utterly unique in the annals of Harry Potter fanfiction. I laid the groundwork for it in this chapter.

Hope you like the Omake. I wanted to copy the speech and tweak it for a magical world, but then someone will say "copyvio! Copyvio!" All the sadder. It would have been more fun that way.

BTW, have you ever noticed that in some fics the answers to questions under veritaserum are wordy and provide more info than needed. I don't think that's how it works. Note how carefully she words her questions to get the answers she needs. Even under veritaserum, they're not going to volunteer anything they don't have to.

Read? Like? Review.


	10. Dark Lord Springer

Disclaimer: Not her, not rich, bugger off.

 _Compendium of Dark Lords – Volume 6, by Sue. D. Nym._

 _Jerry Springer_

 _Gerald Norman Springer, AKA "Jerry Springer" was born in London, UK on Feb. 13, 1944, to squib parents. He was educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin) from the years of 1955 through 1962 before moving to the United States to begin a career as a politician and broadcaster, living as a muggle throughout much of this time._

 _Springer is best known in magical circles for perfecting a spell that can be transmitted through the airwaves, known as the "Electromagnetic Imperius". After its development, it was used in order to increase viewership to his program, otherwise considered a tawdry, vile testament to the profitability of pandering to the lowest common denominator, and also sending subliminal commands to a particular type of people, to cause them to sign up to be on his show as guests. The spells he used were particularly vile, as they targeted specifically those with secrets and shame – the more secrets and shame, the more compulsion felt._

 _After this compulsion was discovered, it was made a punishable felony in all countries that could receive the signal for a wizard or witch to watch any program produced or directed by him, but moreso, the governments that enforced these prohibitions successfully performed psychological operations to make those who admitted to watching his programs social outcasts and pariahs. In most countries, actually watching these programs will only lead to a small fine, if their enjoyment of these programs comes out into the open, they are treated worse than lepers._

 _United Kingdom law regarding watching Jerry Springer_

 _Those who admit to or are caught watching Jerry Springer are subject to a fine of one thousand galleons. However, for repeat offenders, there is a little-known facility on an island in the North Sea not too far from the notorious Azkaban prison, where they may live out the rest of their days in relative isolation, free to indulge in their perverted fetishes without worrying the good folk of the mainland UK. In an unwarranted but magnanimous display of generosity by the magical government of the UK, it was intentionally designed to be a carbon copy of Cincinnati, Ohio, USA, where Springer was formerly mayor. It is thought that such a familiar environment will be helpful to their rehabilitation._

 _It is not known why, to a one, those who are sent there begin screaming in terror the minute they see the skyline..._

Scene Break (and not a moment too soon, the author was getting ill himself).

In the Great Hall, Harry, Hermione, and Luna were sitting together at the Gryffindor table, chewing on their breakfast. McGonagall had told Luna to move to her own table, but this was a battle that Harry had one, after Hermione quoted chapter and verse from _Hogwarts: A History_ proving that there was not only no rule against such fraternization, but that it was actually encouraged until recently – students only being required to sit at their house tables on days of feast and other special events.

McGonagall showed that she was a good sport about the whole thing by turning into a cat and walking back to the head table literally with her tail between her legs. She then turned back into a human, gave Hermione a little wink, and sat down at her table, stone-faced.

Fred and George Weasley started at her, awestruck. Gred looked at Forge with stars in his eyes.

"Gred, I'd never considered a teacher before, but that..."

"Forge, I regret to inform you that she is way out of your league."

"A pity, that, brother mine."

The table giggled at their antics. McGonagall pretended not to hear.

At that moment, owls flooded in with that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. For once, Harry, Hermione, and Luna were all utterly mystified as to why the room got deathly quiet, and every student and teacher who was reading all looked at Draco. He was confused until he read the paper as well. HIs face turned beet red, he stood up and stalked out of the hall.

They begged a paper off one of their schoolmates, and read the headline.

 _Lucius Malfoy arrested, admits to watching Jerry Springer. Also admits to murder, rape, theft, line theft, and jaywalking._

Dumbledore stood up.

"Students, may I remind you that the rules against bullying are still in full force."

Harry looked at his friends. "So what's wrong with Jerry Springer?"

The entire table looked at him.

"What?"

Finally one of the upper years took pity on him and explained, pointing him to the _Compendium of Dark Lords, Volume 6_ for further details. Hermione was pleased at the recommendation of another book to read. Luna, Hermione, and Harry chatted amiably throughout breakfast.

Hermione caught Neville giving her some sidelong glances, and pinked. Harry noticed as well. Luna just smiled. Harry spoke up.

"How is your wand working for you, Neville?", he asked, face carefully schooled to be innocent.

"Oh, the usual", Neville said. "I played with it for a while after Professor Tonks cast her spell, but it wasn't a whole lot better."

Harry smiled. "Perhaps Hermione would like to help you with your wand, Neville."

Hermione choked on a piece of bacon, and sputtered. "Wha-?"

Luna caught on. "Yes, Neville Longbottom, I'm pretty sure that Hermione is interested in helping you with your wand. I've caught her admiring it for a while now."

Hermione turned beet red.

Harry grinned. "Why Neville, I think Hermione would absolutely love to see if she can make your wand work better."

Luna piped up. "Just make sure to keep it away from her -"

Harry put a hand over her mouth very quickly. Luna fell silent. Harry looked at her with a warning note, and whispered into her ear, "Luna, don't take it too far. We're just taking the mickey out of her. Do you understand?"

Luna nodded, and harry took his hand off her mouth.

"- fanny!", Luna finished.

Harry dropped his head on the table. Hermione looked like she wanted to disappear through the floor. Neville just smirked. His wand could always use more attention. Either wand.

Ron was too busy eating to notice. Some things didn't change.

Scene Change

One interesting things about trials in the Wizarding world is that they did not need to be done with the participation of the accused. In the Muggle world, this was needed in order to get to the truth, but the Wizarding world had things like pensieves and veritaserum, and as long as the interrogations had been recorded well and there was no evidence of tampering, those could be accepted as testimony from the accused.

What this meant was that the trials for all of the accused death eaters were already under way. Amelia had also ordered the death eaters being stored in Azkaban to be recalled, and was also in the process of interrogating them as well.

With any luck they would all be through the veil by morning.

Those who were not death eaters – such as Fudge, Umbridge, and Skeeter, would be treated a little more leniently. She would still grant them the honor of a public trial, simply because she wanted the world to see what they had done. She also knew they likely would not get the veil, though Umbridge was likely to get sent to New Cincinnati. There were a few death eater loose ends, but most of those would be taken care of shortly.

There was one loose end that she was puzzled by, though. Sirius Black. He had been in Azkaban for many years, but she could find no record of an interrogation (this she expected), _or_ a trial. Because trials had to be carried out in order to send someone to their fate, be it Azkaban, the veil, or (she shivered) New Cincinnati, this seemed to be an inexcusable loose end. She called the Prophet to get a full page ad asking him to come back to Britain to face interrogation and trial – safety guaranteed until after the trial.

If he turned out to be guilty he'd go through the veil too. But if not... if not, someone screwed up, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

Scene Change

Molly Weasley read through the letter that Minerva sent her again, her blood boiling just a little.

 _Arthur and Molly Weasley,_

 _Please be aware that Hogwarts has instituted rules against antisocial behavior during terms, which includes bullying, namecalling, and demeaning of other students. Please also be aware that your son, Ron, violated these rules_ while they were being announced _. We have informed him in no uncertain terms that this behavior is no longer acceptable and further violations will lead to escalating punishments, including, but not limited to, expulsion._

 _We wish to inform you as well that these rules also apply to the introduction of Howlers, by mail or otherwise, to the school, via owls or any other means. We feel that this is also a form of bullying, as the howlers can be heard by anyone, and also that such matters should be kept within the family – or at least those within natural earshot. We are aware that you have sent multiple howlers to the school in the years that you have had children here. We request that you cease and desist from doing this from now on._

 _Thank you for your time and consideration,_

 _Prof. Minerva McGonagall_

Molly showed the letter to her husband, mumbling all the way.

Arthur read the note.

"It's about time", he said.

"What?", she nearly yelled.

"It's about time. I have a hard time believing the headmaster allowed students to get away with what he did. It's about time it stopped."

"But... I can't send howlers anymore!"

"Mollywobbles", Arthur said, "has any howler you've sent ever made one lick of difference?"

Molly thought for a moment. "I'm going to send Minerva a howler!" She went for the red paper.

Arthur facepalmed, super-Picard style. This was not going to end well.

Scene Change

Amelia showed up at lunchtime with a couple of Aurors, and walked up to Snape.

"Severus Snape?"

Snape pulled out his wand. Amelia was faster. So were her Aurors.

"Stupefy."

Snape dropped.

"You're under arrest for having a dark mark."

The hall was dead silent.

The Aurors took Snape away. One kicked him unnecessarily.

Dumbledore rang his goblet.

"Potions for this afternoon are cancelled."

The Gryffindors cheered.

Dumbledore put his head in his hands.

He needed another pain relieving potion.

Harry found that he now had the afternoon free. He walked up to the head table.

"Do you have some time, Professor?"

"See in my office after lunch."

Harry nodded.

Scene Change

The composer birds (all of the different varities) were minding their own business, eating worms and singing fragments from their favorite composers, when suddenly a flash of red flamed in. One of the birds whistled a sound not unlike the "Red Alert" klaxon from Star Trek, and before you could say "Fawkes is a pervert", they were gone.

As it happens, Fawkes actually was a pervert, and that is why they were gone.

A BernsteinBird stuck around, and sang.

 _A boy like that, will bone your mother_

 _Forget that boy, and find another,_

 _One of your own kind, stick with your AAAAAWWWKK_

It should have run while it had the chance.

A satisfied Fawkes flamed back a few hours later, shagged out after a prolonged squawk, and a BernsteinBird ruffled its feathers, wondering what kind of composer bird would come from a phoenix father.

Scene Change

Harry found himself once again in Dumbledore's office, politely refusing a lemon drop. Fawkes' stand was empty. Rays of sunshine were coming in through the large windows, though this time of year the sun was low in the sky.

"How can I help you, Harry?"

"I don't have to participate in the tournament anymore."

Dumbledore paused. With all of the events over the past few days, that hadn't occurred to him.

"I suppose you're right. Barty Crouch Jr. already lost its magic, and the goblet won't take yours now. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd have a suggestion."

Dumbledore thought.

"Well, Harry, here's how I see it. On the one hand, you are still too young to participate in the tournament, and we only allowed it because you were forced by the goblet to participate. It would make perfect sense to say that since you are no longer required to participate in the tournament, you're no longer allowed to."

"But?", Harry prodded.

"But, you handled that first task in a way that not even I could have pulled off, accomplishing something not seen since Merlin, and you would have won too if it weren't for Bagman and Karkaroff trying to sabotage you. And, I suspect, you won't need to worry about Karkaroff shortly. I find myself wondering how you will handle the second and third tasks.

"Therefore, I'm going to leave it up to you."

"I'll have to think about it, Albus."

"You don't need to answer right away, Harry.

"There is a Yule Ball coming up. It has not yet been announced to the students – that will happen next week. I do ask that, whatever you decide, you attend the ball as a champion. I daresay after your performance in the first task, you've earned it."

Harry smiled. He didn't know how to dance, he didn't really want to go, but he knew a particular young Ravenclaw whose year it would make.

"Consider it done."

Dumbledore smiled. "And give young Miss Lovegood my regards when you ask her." He winked

Harry groaned. Albus may be old, but he didn't miss a trick.

"Also Harry, Professor McGonagall told me about an idea you had earlier. I think you're right. The time for exclusive common rooms – within certain bounds – is over. I'll be announcing some changes to policy tonight. I daresay young Miss Lovegood will appreciate those changes."

Albus smiled and leaned forward.

"Between you and me, Harry, I have yet to see a person walk through these halls in my many years on the faculty at Hogwarts that has a purer, lighter heart than Miss Lovegood. Treat her well, Harry."

Harry looked thoughtful and pinked up a little.

"Between you and me, Albus, I love her. I don't think I'm in love with her, not yet, but I love her. She is... beautiful."

They both knew Harry was not speaking of her appearance, though he thought that she was a moderately cute twelve year old – as twelve year olds go.

"I believe she loves you as well, Harry."

"I hope I don't do anything to wreck it."

"You won't, Harry."

Scene Change

Amelia took two aurors to the Durmstrang ship.

"Karkaroff. May I speak with you for a moment?"

Karkaroff yelled down at her from the ship's bow. "Are you here to arrest me?"

"Arrest you?", Amelia said, looking affronted. "Goodness no! I just want to talk."

Karkaroff still looked suspicious. "Well, alright then", he said. He came down the gangplank.

"Stupefy'.

He dropped.

"We talked. Now you're under arrest."

Operation Send All The Death Eaters Through The Veil was nearing completion.

A/N

Alright, a few things to cover. First off, I know some of you like Jerry Springer and his show. That's your right. I don't think less of you as a person. However, I am the exact opposite of a fan. My comment about "pandering to the lowest common denominator" is exactly how I feel. All that said, it is only intended as a joke, so if you are offended, please lighten up and enjoy the story, or go somewhere else. It's nothing to get riled up about.

I received an anonymous review about Dark Lord Springer that was so funny I was cracking up in the middle of the lunchroom at work, and I knew I had to do it. So thanks, anonymous reviewer. I know some might think I'm overplaying it, but again, my story, my rules, tyvm. I never claimed to be either a good writer or able to stop beating a dead horse.

Honestly, it would have been Dark Lord Justin Bieber instead if it hadn't been anachronistic. Maybe I should have done it anyway. What's an anachronism amongst friends on an increasingly cracky fic?

I have to admit, 25 years is a good run, even if the show itself plays on the worst humanity has to offer.

Tomorrow (story time) is the trip to Diagon Alley with Dumbledore. I wonder how that will go?

Fawkes really is incorrigible.

Read? Like? Review!


	11. The Nargles Said So!

Disclaimer: If, after ten chapters, you still think I'm JK Rowling and am rich off this story, please, for the love of all that's good and holy, get help.

That evening found all of the students in the Great Hall, where Dumbledore did his customary announcements before the meal. Luna had decided to sit at the Gryffindor table with her two friends.

He rang the goblet with his fork, and the students quieted down and listened.

"Students, I am sure that you would like to dig into the delicious food the elves have prepared for us -"

"You bet!", said Ron enthusiastically.

Dumbledore chuckled. "All in good time, my boy, but first -"

Ron's stomach grumbled. The Gryffindor table shrieked and the rest of the school dived under their tables. After a tiny bit of pandemonium where Ron had the decency to look embarrassed, one by one the students climbed out from their safe spaces, and Dumbledore looked a little alarmed. "Yes, yes, I should probably get on with it..."

"Alas, I do have a few announcements, if Mr. Weasley's stomach can hold off for that long."

There were scattered titters.

Dumbledore looked confused, and turned to McGonagall. "Why do they titter so?", he said querulously. She shrugged her shoulders and tried to keep from snickering at his lack of comprehension.

A Muggleborn student yelled "Wewease Wogew!" from the Hufflepuff table, and fully one third of the students fell out of their chair laughing. The other two thirds just looked extremely confused.

Finally Dumbledore got control of the room again, somehow managing to not say "Throw him woughly to the gwound" and got to the serious business at hand. Such as it was.

"The first announcement regards our three champions. They are nearly completely recovered, and Madame Pomfrey tells me that there should be no permanent scarring or damage."

Most of the students cheered.

"And when they have returned, there will be a full feast in their honor."

All of the students cheered loudly. Ron's stomach rumbled approvingly, the applause was loud enough to mask it. Most of the school really loved Hogwarts feasts, they were something to look forward to.

"Yes, yes, everyone loves a feast, particularly our hard-working house elves. I will make an announcement when we have a date set.

"The other announcement all except for Mr. Weasley's stomach may find quite a bit more interesting. It is common knowledge that the four houses have always been a part of Hogwarts history. The houses were created to be a place where like-minded students could find compatriots, but as I have mentioned, they were never intended to add to the division between students. Alas, that is what they have become.

"At the beginning of the year, you are given passwords to your house doors, and you are requested to keep both the passwords and the location of your house entrance a secret. It was recently pointed out to me that, in modern times, this does not make sense, and actually serves to exacerbate the problem.

"However, in the efforts of promoting house unity and a healthy inter-house rivalry, I do not want to get rid of the system entirely.

"So after some thought, I have decided to, er... tweak the rules, just a bit."

The school was, as seemed to be usual for these kinds of announcements, absolutely quiet.

"The house common rooms will no longer be closed off to students of other houses -"

Dumbledore was drowned out by the protests of all four houses. He raised his hand and demanded silence.

"This is exactly to what I was referring! The members of other houses are students just like the members of yours! Perhaps this school would be better off if she students were able to get to know each other in a more social setting. Nonetheless, there are conditions.

"Condition one is that under no circumstances will students of other houses be allowed into the dorms of a house they do not belong to.

"Condition two is that all students must be in their own common room by curfew.

"Condition three is that any student wishing to enter a house must be invited."

Harry leaned over and whispered in Luna's ear "as long as I am in the common room, you are always invited, Luna." Her eyes shone.

"Condition four is that a student may not be removed or told to leave by other students under any circumstances. If they believe there is a problem that requires removal of a student, they are required to notify their head of house or me, and the problem will be dealt with expeditiously. There are no exceptions to this rule!"

"Violation of any of these conditions will be treated most severely, and will lead to strict disciplinary measures that could include expulsion or worse depending on the seriousness of the violation and prior history. If you have questions, please ask your head of house. And with that, tuck in!"

With a wave of his hand, there was food, and soon Ron's stomach was quieted.

As they ate, Hermione was thoughtful. "You know, I'd never thought of that", she said. "But it's true. The way the houses are set up at Hogwarts almost requires students in different houses to distrust each other."

Harry nodded. "There have been a lot of changes over the past few days, both in the school and in wider magical society. I hope they're for the best."

Luna giggled. "The nargles tell me they are very good changes. But some of the consequences could be unexpected."

After dinner was over, Luna followed Harry and Hermione back to the Gryffindor common room. Harry sat down in one the couches, Hermione next to him, and Luna climbed into his lap.

"Luna, what are you doing?", he asked. He was going to study, but it was going to be hard to do so with a Luna on is lap.

Luna leaned against his chest. "Comfy", is all she said, and she relaxed against him.

Harry rubbed small circles on her back soothingly and looked pleadingly at Hermione. Hermione just smirked and said "You're on your own, daddy."

Luna spoke up. "He's not my daddy! He's my future husband!"

Harry stopped rubbing small circles. "I'm your what?", he said, pinking a little and suddenly aware of how close she was to him.

Luna giggled. "The nargles told me. But it's alright. It won't be for years. But I like your lap now. It's comfortable." She pecked his nose with a little, chaste kiss and went back to the serious business of relaxing.

Hermione looked utterly flummoxed. "Wha... how?"

Luna giggled her tinkly giggle. "Silly, you won't be my wife. Or his, either. I know that he loves you and you will be best friends for life, but his wand is for me. You'll have your own wand, though, before you know it."

Hermione pinked. "Luna, what do you mean when you say 'the nargles tell me?' I've accepted that they are real to you, but are they trustworthy?"

Luna said simply, "Sometimes I just see things before they happen."

"Are you a seer?"

Luna thought. "My mum was a seer, and her mum was a seer, so maybe I am a seer." She looked up at Harry adoringly. "But I like it best when the nargles tell me things I want anyway." She wrapped her arms around him and cuddled him like a particularly non-hairy specimen of teddy bear. "I think I like my Harry Potter."

Luna got a mischievous look on her face and climbed on Hermione's lap. "Mmm. Also comfortable, Hermione Granger. I like your soap."

Hermione looked at Harry with a look that said "Save me, please!"

Harry just mouthed "You're on your own, mummy." The death glare Hermione sent him could rival Snape, but the younger girl's affections melted her and she allowed Luna to stay cuddled up to her whilst she read a book, absently playing with the younger girl's long, dirty blonde hair with her other hand. Luna, for want of a better word... purred. It was like having a large, unusually well-mannered cat, and she was certainly growing on Hermione.

Harry just went back to studying, grinning to himself. Damn, he loved Luna.

A half an hour later found Luna sound asleep against Hermione and snoring lightly, Hermione trying to split her attentions between reading her book and petting Luna's hair, and Harry laughing at the surreality of it all.

And then McGonagall walked in.

She looked like she was about to lay into Hermione and Luna, when Harry stood up and took her aside.

"Professor, nothing is going on. Luna decided she wanted to sit in Hermione's lap and sleep, and that's all.", he whispered.

She pursed her lips. "I really can't – that's against the rules -"

McGonagall was honestly torn, because she knew that Harry's explanation was true, and she also had a soft spot for Luna, loathe as she was to admit it. And the sight in front of her was damn cute, she thought, as Luna shifted a little bit to be more comfortable and Hermione cooed a bit and kissed her forehead before catching herself and going back to the book. But it _was_ against the rules, and McGonagall had always been a stickler for the rules.

He reached up and whispered something in McGonagall's ear.

Thirty seconds later, Harry was petting a lovely tiger striped cat with markings that looked like spectacles, which had somehow made its way onto his lap and was resting quite comfortably.

It was nice when everyone got what they wanted.

Scene Change

Amelia was annoyed. She had arrested Snape and Karkaroff. Snape she could pretty easily get sent through the veil, he was absolutely not a sympathetic character and her veritaserum interrogations showed that his loyalties were, at best, divided. He was not a piss-poor potions teacher because he was a bad teacher, he was deliberately sabotaging Magical Britain by ensuring that no one would graduate with anything but a basic knowledge of potions – one wholly unsatisfactory for being a productive citizen of the magical society. When quizzed as to why, it was pure spite.

To her annoyance, that was not illegal. However, He had a dark mark, and the things that he had done to get that dark mark turned her stomach.

Karkaroff was a different story, though. He had already endured due process – having been put under trial and sentenced – but then having his sentence commuted for cooperation. By all rights, he'd kept his nose clean, and her interrogations bore that out. She'd made a mistake, and now she'd be in a spot of trouble. Not enough to cause her any huge problem, but it would be an inconvenience settling with him for false arrest.

After she explained what she was doing, though, he was generally in agreement with her goals, so he accepted an apology, a few hundred galleons from petty cash, and a Amelia Bones bobblehead doll in exchange for dropping any claim against her or the ministry. He also had to give her points for style for the manner in which she arrested him.

The was one other thing he requested, though something Amelia was less inclined to provided, but decided to "take one for the team". He wanted to have dinner with her one night soon. One of her dirty little secrets was that she went for the Eastern European types, what with all the hair and the accent and the "How you say" and the guttural "r", so it really wan't too much of an imposition after all, and they made plans to go to a very nice restaurant over the weekend.

She told him not to bring the bobblehead doll, though. A girl has to have _some_ standards.

Scene Change

The Forest and the lawns were absolutely full of composerbirds. They whistled and sang little snippets from every composer imaginable. There were the obvious BachBirds, BeethovenBirds, MozartBirds, BrahmsBirds, ChopinBirds, etc... The slightly less obvious SalieriBirds (who hung around the MozartBirds hoping to get a taste of greatness), VivaldiBirds, and BorodinBirds. There were even BeeGeeBirds, WilsonBirds ("I wish they all could be California birds"), and even Rockin' Robins. The SimmonsBirds caught bugs with exceptionally long tongues (one wonders if the birds' namesake did the same.)

Amongst the racket, one bird sat mute. It looked around, seemed otherwise happy, but did not utter a peep.

It was a unique experience being a CageBird.

Scene Change

Later that evening, after Luna left for her own dorms, he and Hermione sat on the couch next to the fire.

"What do you think of Luna, Hermione?"

Hermione sat there, just thinking.

"You love her, Harry, don't you?"

He nodded. "Not that way, but as a person? Yes, I do. A lot."

Hermione did not move, the fire dancing in her eyes.

"I wish someone would love me that way", she said, her eyes glimmering.

Harry smiled, and opened his arms. She crawled on top of him and snuggled down the same way Luna did. She sighed contentedly, and he kissed her forehead gently before playing with her bushy chestnut tresses.

"I do, Hermione."

A single tear escaped her eye, and she hugged him just as fiercely as Luna had, knowing deep in her heart that his words were absolutely true. That one tear was joined by a friend, and soon she was shuddering in his arms, while he cooed gentle words at her, happy to have finally found someone who loved her, even if just as a friend. And for the next hour, they stayed like that, Harry daring anyone who walked through the common room to say something.

They didn't.

Neville gave them the stinkeye though and stomped up to his room.

Harry smiled. He might have to nudge that boy just a little.

Finally, she disentangled herself from her boy-shaped pillow, and went to bed. All three of them – Luna, Hermione, and Harry – slept better than they'd slept in a long time.

Omake

The students were enjoying their lunch in the Great Hall, when with a guttural roar the doors flung open, and Hagrid appeared, backlit by the sun, with a MalmsteinBird in each hand, each one shredding like there was no tomorrow. He was wearing a massive horned helmet. Thunder roared, and lightning crackled through his beard, as he sang "GIMME GIMME GIMME YOUR LOVE AFTER MIDNIGHT"

Madame Maxine fainted with desire.

The rest of the school just sat there with their mouths open.

Electricbeard Viking Hagrid was going to take some getting used to.

A/N

I have settled on pairings, and now we get a glimpse of what those pairings will be. They are now set in stone – I don't have any intention of changing them, so please no begging.

I think there are several absolutely unique in all of fandom elements to this story, and two of them are in this chapter. One is Amelia/Karkaroff, and the other are the changes in rules wrt the common rooms. McGonagall getting petted, oddly enough, is not.

If you are confused by the CageBird, look up John Cage and his most famous "work". There are some amusing covers of it on YouTube.

One review today corrected me, and said it's "batting for the other team", not "beating for the other team". I responded that, no, I meant exactly what I wrote. Quidditch does not have batters.

Thank you again for the wonderful reviews, and so many of them too. I have taken most constructive criticism into account, and hopefully the story is better for it, and I really love reading about what you enjoy.

Been dealing with some unpleasant personal issues, so sorry for the short chapter. I hope you found it amusing, nonetheless. And maybe a little heartwarming. Please note that I gave some clues both as to what nargles are, and to their trustworthiness. Usually, when Luna says something is going to come to pass, it will. Though sometimes she can want something bad enough it will fool her.

And what was the Omake about? There is an anonymous reviewer that just keeps coming up with this stuff. I wish they'd log in so I could PM them.

Read? Like? Review.


	12. Howlers, Goblins, and Love, Oh my!

Disclaimer: Not. No.

The next morning at breakfast, an owl flopped in with a red envelope and made its way over to Ron, and flopped down exhaustedly on the table. It had been sent way earlier, but Errol was not in great shape as an owl, and it took him that long to meander over to Hogwarts from Ottery-St. Catchpole. The red envelope started smoking and a loud, piercing shriek erupted from it.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU CALL THE SLYTHERINS SLIMEY SNAKES, I"

And the howler exploded. Professor McGonagall put away her wand, but remained standing.

"Students, if you have a parent that tends to send howlers, please let them know right now that this will no longer be tolerated. The rules against bullying behavior also apply to your parents. And they may ask her – after today – if they wish to know what the consequences will be for violating this rule."

Ron was gobsmacked. A professor stood up for him? He was going to have to think about this.

Many things happened after this breakfast. Many students read their copy of the Daily Prophet, where they found out that many more people – some parents of students – had been arrested and were being tried as death eaters. A few had already been sent through the veil. Some other students decided to take a walk around outside – apparently some of the girls had, since the restrictions on bullying had been put into place, decided to run around the lake to get some exercise. Harry was getting ready for his long- awaited outing with Dumbledore. And McGonagall was readying a surprise of her own for one loud-mouthed but well-meaning mother.

Arthur and Molly Weasley were walking through Diagon Alley, getting some magical supplies. Arthur wanted to look at the latest brooms, and Molly needed to replace some magical cookware (which were different than cauldrons). Just as they were about to walk into Enchanted Spatula City (with a large picture of a goofy looking guy with a long face and curly hair holding a spatula and saying "We have spatulas!"), an owl approached with a large red envelope.

The owl dropped the envelope and flew away, and it started smoking. The envelope, not the owl. A couple of seconds later, the voice of deputy headmistress McGonagall boomed out throughout Diagon Alley, causing everyone in the alley to stop and turn around to stare at the couple. Some people even came out of their places of business to watch the spectacle.

"MOLLYWOBBLES IGNOTIA HAGGIS PREWETT WEASLEY, I HAVE TOLD YOU THAT WE WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO SEND HOWLERS TO STUDENTS AT HOGWARTS, AND YOU CHOSE TO IGNORE ME. I HAVE OPTED TO SEND THIS AT THE MOST EMBARRASSING TIME FOR YOU, AND IF YOU CHOOSE TO SEND ANOTHER HOWLER AND EMBARRASS YOUR SON AT SCHOOL, OR FOR ANY REASON AT ALL, I WILL COME OVER PERSONALLY AND TAKE YOU OVER MY KNEE. IF YOU FEEL THE NEED TO DISCIPLINE YOUR SON, THEN YOU WILL COME TO SCHOOL OR SEND A NORMAL LETTER LIKE EVERY OTHER PARENT. I HOPE I HAVE MADE MYSELF CLEAR, BECAUSE IF I HAVE NOT, I WILL TAN YOUR HIDE."

Molly cringed. She had been on the receiving end of McGonagall's discipline before.

The howler turned towards Arthur and softened considerably.

"GOOD MORNING ARTHUR, I HOPE YOU ARE WELL, YOU ALWAYS WERE A GOOD BOY. IF I NEED TO TAN YOUR WIFE'S HIDE, I'LL LET YOU WATCH. HAVE A NICE DAY."

Arthur hid a smile. He knew his wife's pride would be hurt. He also thought she deserved every last bit of what she had just gotten. Maybe if he couldn't keep her in line, her old transfiguration teacher could.

The rest of the alley chucked quietly, and went about their business.

Molly, without another word, dragged Arthur back to the apparition point. She wouldn't be seen in Diagon Alley for quite a while after that.

But she pinked a little at thought of her hide being tanned. Arthur didn't notice.

Scene Change

It was a chilly day, overcast and threatening to drop things from the sky.

Ron had his broom and was going out to the quidditch pitch for some flying, when he spotted a pack of Slytherin girls running around the lake. He definitely noticed their physical attributes, but the girl stopped him dead in his tracks.

She was wearing an orange Chudley Cannons shirt.

Slimy snake, or no, he was in love.

He had suddenly found another interest other than quidditch and eating.

Making note of who she was for further reference, he trudged on to the quidditch pitch, little hearts flashing in his eyes.

Scene Change

A lone bird was sitting in a branch on the outskirts of the forbidden forest. None of the other birds would come near. He whistled a discordant, mournful melody, and all of the critters on the floor ran for their lives. It was, sadly, a very lonely bird. It would have lots more friends if it could just sing a slightly more cheerful song – when a melody meshes, it can even be a counterpoint while still mixing with the rest of the melodies. It had yet to learn that the other birds would be far more likely to let it join in on their melodies if it would just make some attempt to not be completely disagreeable. It sighed, ruffled its feathers, and preened itself, philosophizing on its miserable existence.

It was a cursed life being a RudeReviewerBird.

Scene Change

Luna and Hermione also were taking a walk. Luna grabbed Hermione's hand, and Hermione pulled it away.

Luna looked at Hermione, hurt in her eyes, and withdrew into herself. Hermione saw the change in mannerism, and sat down on a bench – actually, the same one that Luna had first cried with Harry on. The giant squid was more subdued today, through merpeople still kept randomly flying out of the lake yelling "weeeeeee!". She pulled Luna down with her, and Luna sat.

"Luna, you know that some people might get the wrong idea..." The interactions with Luna the night before had been heavy on her mind. Most of the house had seen them cuddling like two lovers.

Luna's lip quivered.

"My mother used to hug me. She hugged me, and cuddled with me, and held my hand."

She turned to look at Hermione, her big, silvery eyes boring deep into Hermione's.

"I'm not your mum, Luna."

"I know you're not my mum, Hermione Granger. But it hurts. I'm just Looney Lovegood to most. I miss that the most about my mum... after she died, no one would hug me anymore."

"Not even your father?"

"My father was never the touchy type – and after my mum died, he withdrew more."

Hermione sat there, thoughtfully. Luna's sadness was threatening to spill over.

"I love to hug and cuddle, Hermione Granger. I know that some will see in it what they want to, but to me what good is having a friend if you cannot cuddle with them?"

"Just to make sure, Luna, you're not -"

Luna giggled sadly. "Oh, heavens no! I like wands, not holsters. But why does being affectionate with someone have to mean.. that?"

Hermione sighed. Luna was right, and she knew it. Damn it.

She reached over and took Luna's hand, and squeezed it.

They stood up, and walked down the lane, hand in hand. Luna looked much happier. She looked at Hermione as she walked.

"Thank you, Hermione Granger", she said, one tear dripping down her cheek before she could catch it. "Harry may be my future husband, but you are my sister now."

Hermione looked at Luna, shocked. She had been an only child. She had never had a sister.

"Do you mean it, Luna?", she asked, and this time it was her that the tears were threatening.

Luna stopped, and looked deep into Hermione's brown eyes.

"With everything I have, Hermione Granger. We are sisters."

Hermione's defenses crumbled, and she hugged Luna, sobbing. Finally, she wiped her eyes.

"I've always wanted a sister", she said, with a combination of amazement and sadness.

Luna smiled, and the two new sisters continued their walk, hand in hand.

"Does that mean Harry is my brother?"

"He has always been your brother, Hermione. He loves you at least as much as a brother loves a sister. Perhaps more. If I were not here he would marry you in less than a heartbeat. Never forget that. He would die to protect you and not think twice about it."

Hermione spent the rest of their walk deep in thought while Luna chattered about crumple-horned snorkacks.

Scene Change

Harry met Dumbledore in his office at 9 AM sharp, and they headed for Diagon Alley.

As they walked through the alley, they could hear a loud yelling sound in the background. It sounded as if someone was threatening to tan someone else's hide. Dumbledore smirked, but kept moving. It sounded like McGonagall was making her displeasure known. Finally they found their way to Gringotts.

As they walked in, Harry saw Griphook, and called out a greeting. Griphook sneered and walked away.

Dumbledore said, quietly, "Goblins are required to give you their name if asked, but they don't really like it when humans use them. It's seen as an attempt to gain power from them. Don't use their names if you can help it, and it's even better if you don't ask."

"But I didn't ask the first time -", Harry started.

"The teller would have said his name in gobbledegook if he had truly not wanted you to know. That goblin had done something to be disfavored in the teller's eyes, to have said his English name in full hearing of a human."

Harry nodded. Goblins are not your friend. Noted.

They walked up to the teller.

"We need the services of the Potter account manager", Dumbledore said.

"Key."

Dumbledore provided the key, which the teller inspected. He then handed it back, and Dumbledore gave it to Harry. "You should have had that a long time ago", he said sadly.

The teller got up and wordlessly walked away. He got to a door, then stood there, sneering, "Well, are you going to come or not?"

They followed the Goblin into a hallway with some offices, and made their way to the door of a simple office.

"Deposit your wands here, lock the box, and take the key with you", the goblin said, pointing at a small drop box just outside the office with a key already inserted.

They did so and walked into the office. There were two chairs, a desk, and no other decorations.

They did not sit down. Dumbledore explained, "To sit down before a Goblin is seen as disrepectful." Harry nodded.

Finally a Goblin walked in. It did not offer its name, and they did not ask.

"What can I do for you?", the Goblin asked brusquely, showing sharp teeth.

"Mr. Potter needs an inheritance test and an account audit."

The Goblin nodded curtly, and produced a small gadget with runes etched into every exposed surface.

"Touch here", he said, pointing to a finger-shaped area on the device. He did, and there was a small, not very noticeable prick.

A piece of parchment slid out of the device, with unintelligible codes printed on it. "Take this to the Ministry of Magic, they will be able to tell you if there are any vaults you are entitled to. Ten Galleons will be withdrawn from your account for this service. Now for the account audit..."

He grunted and tabbed a few runes on the device, and out came another few pieces of parchment, this with some far more intelligible writing. "This is a list of all of your current holdings. If there are other vaults, return with the claim form signed by the appropriate person at the ministry, and those vaults will be transferred into your name. Will there be anything else?"

"Did my parents have a will?", he said.

"If they did, it will be at the Ministry. We do not handle wills, though there may be a copy in your vault."

Dumbledore sighed. "The will was sealed by the minister at the time, Harry. But perhaps with the help of Madame Bones, we can get it unsealed."

Harry nodded, and the Goblin appeared quite upset that his time was being wasted with idle chit-chat. So with sufficient haste, they retrieved their wands and walked out of Gringotts.

Their next stop was the Ministry of Magic, where Harry and Dumbledore went up to see Madame Bones. Normally at 9:30 AM on a Saturday she would not be there, but she had been doing a lot of work trying to mop up the death eater problem, and Dumbledore had asked in advance, so there she was.

They sat down.

Madame Bones smiled at him, a somewhat predatory smile but he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I owe you some thanks, Harry, if indirectly. Based upon what Dumbledore here has told me, it was the fact that you were entered against your will into the tournament that allowed me to break the whole death eater case wide open. It turned out Crouch was the first death eater that I'd been able to interrogate properly, and it also turned out that all of the other interrogations had been... disappeared.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure we'll be a lot better off when they're out of the picture."

"Yes, but there are many who sympathize who never became death eaters. And we think Voldemort is still on the loose. So don't get too complacent."

Dumbledore said "We have other business, Amelia. Harry's parents had a will, but for 'national security' reasons the will was sealed. Can you help us to unseal it?"

Amelia smiled. "That shouldn't be a problem, but I'm going to have to read it first to make sure that the sealing was not justified. Knowing the incompetence and corruption of previous administrations, though...", she growled.

Dumbledore nodded. A sensible precaution.

"Also any chance that we can have someone check these inheritance results?" He handed the paper to Amelia.

She stood up, and they all walked down to the Department of Magical Inheritance.

She got a copy of the will without too much trouble, and read it. As she read it, her eyes widened, and face full of rage, she had a certified copy made by the clerk.

"Amelia?", Dumbledore asked.

"Contained here is strong evidence that Sirius Black was innocent."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Of course he was! I cast the Fidelius!"

She looked at him with fire in her eyes. "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Of course, I did, Amelia! I spent years fighting with Fudge and the Wizengamot to get them to believe me, but since they'd sealed the will and Sirius was in Azkaban, there was no way to prove it. Finally they told me if I didn't shut up about it they'd get me removed as chief of the wizengamot and find someone more malleable."

"You could have come to me!"

"Would you have believed me?"

Amelia thought. "You're right. Probably not." She visibly deflated. "May I use your memories as evidence?"

"Absolutely, Amelia."

They handed the inheritance test results to the clerk, and after she analyzed them, Harry found that he inherited a few small lines, but nothing huge. He discovered that he was Lord Potter, but that that really didn't mean anything but an inherited wizengamot seat that he couldn't take until he was of age and a few other small benefits. He also discovered that he was distantly related to all four founders, but they told him that nearly everyone in the wizarding world could claim the same.

They thanked Amelia and the clerk, and after saying their goodbyes, left the building.

A few minutes later, Sirius walked into the ministry as a dog and found his way to Amelia's office.

She looked quizically at the big dog with a goofy expression, and started when it morphed into the visage of Sirius Black.

"Hello, Amelia. I'm here to take you up on your offer."

A few minutes later, she had him in a cell and was preparing veritaserum.

A few more minutes later, Amelia hastily convened a trial.

An hour later, Sirius was a free man. He was convicted of being an unregistered animagus, but his time in Azkaban was applied, and he was sentenced to time served with no fine. That left three years of unjust imprisonment, and the ministry gave him his auror salary for those three years and an honorable discarge on his record. Part of the condition for the money, though, was that he was required to spend six months inpatient at a mind healer's in order to deal with the effects of his incarceration.

Who said there weren't happy endings?

A/N - Happy ending for Sirius, not for the story.

I've been meaning to write these scenes for a while. Particularly with the interaction between the Goblins and the Ministry. I cannot say how much I hate how the Goblins seem to have taken over for what the ministry should be doing in almost every fanfic I've read. There should be some pretty thorough treaties that delineate responsibilities.

And the whole "blood test on parchment" thing? Oh, please.

Now for a slightly less pleasant matter. I thank everyone for the positive reviews, and even for the constructive criticism. As you can tell, I take that very seriously, and if I like your suggestions and corrections, I'll implement them. It makes the story immeasurably better, because otherwise I'll forget plot points. Seriously – a few plot points are here literally because of reviews.

But even after around two hundred nice reviews, I got a really obnoxious one – and in PM, the person was even more obnoxious. As near I as I could tell, this person was upset because I don't "ship" H/Hr, because it's just meandering all over the place, and because the composer birds stink.

Yes, it is meandering all over the place. I've made zero secret of that. I only take this story seriously (Siriusly?) enough to advance plot points and keep relatively good grammar. Otherwise, who cares? Frankly, JK Meandered all over the place too, introducing random plot points whenever she felt like it.

And I don't ship. I could have just as easily written H/Hr – in fact, this story is kind of H/LL/Hr except that H/Hr will never insert tab A into slot B – it will be a relationship possibly even closer than that. It's already heading that way. So if you're upset that I'm not going to insert Harry's tab A into Hermione's slot B at some point in the future, then kindly think about why you read fanfiction in the first place and don't darken my review page with your tripe, alright? As my disclaimers have made perfectly clear – I don't get paid to write, you don't get paid to read, so just chill out and learn to have fun.

And as far as the composerbirds go, well, today's should say exactly how I feel about that.

One review said this should be an M. I don't agree. I will switch it to an M the minute I do anything more than heavily imply that any event of an adult nature has occurred. Which won't happen anytime soon between H/LL pr H/Hr. It might happen between other characters. I will switch it if or when that happens. If a few more people agree that it should be M, though, I will acquiesce and switch it. To be perfectly clear, Luna is absolutely, entirely, innocent. She knows about sex intellectually, she can even joke about it, but when push comes to shove, she just wants to be loved right now.

Don't we all?

Read? Like? Review!

Read? Don't like? Review!

Read? Have a bad attitude? Don't.


	13. Veiled Threats

Disclaimer:

"Is there a way I can find you,  
Is there a sign I should know,  
Is there a road I could follow  
To answer your question no?"

One of the beautiful things about being a ComposerBird is that no one pays any attention to you whatsoever.

Sure, one might notice that you're not singing (CageBirds are very handy for stealth for just that reason), but a FolkBird can whistle Dixie until it's blue in the crop and no one will notice the wonderful layers of inflection, tone, and phrasing that are second nature to a ComposerBird. Some folks will even try to sing along – there's no easier way than to turn a BeethovenBird into a CageBird than thinking that you have the same kind of musical sense as said BeethovenBird.

But just because they had their own musical sense, and just because they occasionally fought amongst themselves for what appeared to be banal reasons (though many music majors at any reputable institute of higher learning will completely understand the battles – Tchakovsky's First Concerto vs. Second? Argerich vs. Van Cliburn? Ossia vs. non-ossia?). But ComposerBirds, being magical creatures, were actually highly intelligent. They couldn't say a whole lot, but those birds didn't miss a trick. In actuality, they were a kind of collective intelligence, each one adding to the whole and being far more than the sum of their parts. This is why they each specialized in one composer.

Because of this, now we find our ComposerBirds, in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, holding court on a matter of some importance.

A WilliamsBird sang the "Theme from Harry Potter". ("So what do you think about Harry Potter?")

Another WilliamsBird responded with the "Imperial March". ("The darkness is out to get him.")

A BeethovenBird sang the familiar four note motif to Beethoven's Fifth. ("It's fate").

But another BeethovenBird sang the chorus to Beethoven's ninth. ("But he deserves to be happy".)

A JoelBird sang "Piano Man", and got promptly escorted out for trying to derail the discussion. ("Sing us a song, you're the ERK")

A FranklinBird sang "What's Love Got to do with it?" ("Yes, but is it our business to interfere?")

A BeatleBird sang "All you Need is Love" ("If we can do something about it, shouldn't we?")

A RoxetteBird sang "Listen to your heart" (duh)

A DebussyBird sang "Claire de Lune" ("But what about Luna?")

All the birds were quiet for a moment.

"Love is a Many Splendored Thing", a MovieThemeBird sang. ("I love Luna.")

A CockerBird sang "You are so beautiful." ("She has a beautiful soul.")

The birds were quiet for a moment again, thinking quietly. The CageBird had a lot to say, but no one noticed.

A VanHalenBird sang "Jump" ("Let's do it!")

All the other birds chattered. It was decided.

While every single one of the birds sang one bar from the James Bond theme, a CageBird flew off to see what ol' Voldie was up to.

Speaking of Ol' Voldie, he was in a rage. He had been reading through the Daily Prophets, and what he saw did not only disturb him, but it even scared him, though he would never admit it. All of his plans were going completely awry. Crouch was caught before he could do anything, the rest of his death eaters were being dealt with pretty harshly, Amelia had cleaned out Azkaban and was milking the prisoners formerly housed there for information, and Dumbledore had done something really unexpected and grown a backbone.

Of course, anyone with half a brain (and whose soul wasn't split into seven pieces) could see that Voldemort's plan was a half-baked, idiotic plan with a chance of success that was slightly less than the chance of, say, a future pop star named Justin Bieber suddenly sitting down and writing a piano concerto on par with Rachmaninoff's third. No, just as Mr. Bieber would be hard pressed to write something with more musical complexity than "Twinkle, Twinkle, Patrick Star", Voldemort's pointy pointy head had come up with a rather obviously Rube Goldbergesque monstrosity of a plan that requires approximately six hundred different variables to all go exactly right.

Which is why, obviously, if Harry had not sat down that day and prompted the Goblet to act, they likely would have. The world of magic was unexplored and apparently utterly nonsensical in all its forms. Who else would have come up with prime numbers for sickles and knuts, other than a society which accepted and even nurtured its highly improbable nature?

All of this is a long-winded and vaguely condescending way to say that Voldemort was in a pickle.

As he ranted and raved, and fired cruciatus curses indiscriminately, even hitting a small potted plant, a CageBird sat quietly outside, gathering information to report back to its friends.

Scene Change

As Arthur Dent and the now infamous ship with the Improbability drive, based upon BistroMath(tm) came out of FTL transit around the earth, the drive ramped down from perfect improbability to stable probabilities. As this happened random objects came into being, most of which promptly disintegrated or otherwise were destroyed.

Except for one potted plant.

This poor plant fell through the earth's atmosphere at exactly the right angle, speed, and trajectory to land in a small graveyard outside a rundown house in the United Kingdom. It, in fact, landed right next to a gravestone labeled "Marvolo Riddle".

One day the old Muggle caretaker, a few years before, found this plant next to the grave, and deciding that a distant relative had come by to pay respect, took the plant in and made sure it was well taken care of.

What he did not realize was that this plant was yet another incarnation of a being whose ultimate demise seemed to always be centered around Arthur Dent, and he knew, as he was falling, whose fault it was that he ended up in a small drawing room with an awful looking homunculus and a squirrelly looking rat-faced man.

That was not a surprise. It was also not a surprise when the potted plant got hit by a stray cruciatus curse, and ended up smashed on the floor, cursing the name of Arthur Dent as it expired in great pain.

Scene Change

Dolores Umbridge stepped off the boat on the harbor of New Cincinnati, its majestic skyline spread out before her in all its spectacular glory. Simulacrums of automobiles travelled every which way on the maze of freeway ramps heading on and off the Brent Spence bridge, moving towards and through downtown, and crossing the river again at the golden arches. It was early morning, and all of the residents of New Cincinnati were tuning up their televisions for a round of watching the Jerry Springer show.

Umbridge was assaulted by the many sights and smells of Cincinnati, both old and new.

Like everyone else who had been sent to live in New Cincinnati, the wailing could be heard from the top of the Proctor and Gamble building.

Its only saving grace was that it was not New Toledo.

That would definitely be cruel and unusual punishment.

Thankfully, Carty Finkbeiner was not a dark lord. Or, at least, not a very good one.

Scene Change

After having performed a quick but fair trial for Lucius Malfoy, outfitted with magic suppressing manacles and a lovely parting gift, Lucius Malfoy was led down to the death chamber, deep underneath the Ministry of Magic. The mood was somber, all realizing that Malfoy, who was heretofore a reviled but also respected august member of the wizengamot and all around good - well, rich anyway - man.

The somber procession finally made its way into the death chamber, where Amelia was ready to have the sentence carried out.

"Lucius Malfoy, you have been sentenced to death by veil. We are here to carry out your sentence. Any last words?"

Malfoy nodded.

"At least it's not New Cincinnati".

Amelia shuddered a little, and with no further fanfare, Lucius stepped into the veil with as much dignity as he could muster, and he was gone.

But before Amelia could leave, the black veil started to rustle, and before she could react, Malfoy found himself thrown back out of the veil at high speed, hitting the wall of the chamber with a sickening crunch.

He did not move.

But the veil did. An ethereal, ghostly voice came out of the veil.

"Why did you have to do that", the veil said.

Amelia's mouth dropped open.

"I was just sitting here, minding my business, being a veil, when you shoved... _that_... through me. You shove a lot through me, no dinner, no movie, not even a 'may I', but that? That is the worst thing you have ever shoved through me, bar none. Have you no shame, woman? People have thrown murderers through me, they have thrown rapists, and that was all of them... but someone who unashamedly watches _Jerry Springer_? Find some other way to send it to hell. And next time, buy me dinner before shoving unsavory things through me. I like a nice chianti with my shrimp scampi."

The veil stilled.

Amelia stared at the veil for a full two minutes, not moving once, her mouth forming the shape of the words "What... The..."

The Aurors that accompanied her shook themselves out of it, and went to check up on Malfoy.

He was dead.

But the Dark Mark on his left arm was gone.

The hamsters in Amelia's mind suddenly got a shot of adrenaline, and the Giant Wheel Array that marked her thought processes (and also her occlumency shield) started spinning so hard that metaphorical smoke started arising from metaphorical overheating bearings. What if...

She had to talk to Albus.

Meanwhile, Harry was heading back to Gringotts with a claim form. While he didn't inherit many lines, he agreed with Dumbledore that there might be some neat stuff sitting in the vaults that might help in the fight against the dark. So they walked back in and saw the account manager yet again.

"What can I do for you", the account manager said, with a touch of a sneer.

Harry held out his claim form. "I am the rightful heir to these lines".

The Goblin (whose name was "sha-ree-GACK-gibblegobble-wipNE'mack", but we will call him Sharee – although Harry will not) took a careful look at the claim form, reached into his desk, and pulled out a couple of vault keys.

"Here. The Smith-Smythe-Smith vault, number 532, and the Zinc-Trumpet-Harris family, number 835. Appears the last representatives of their families died in an 'Upper Class Twit of the Year' event twenty years ago."

After an exciting trip in the vault where Dumbledore seemed to lose twenty years as he whooped. First they reached vault number 835. There were not many interesting things in that vault, although there was a very attractive table lamp. Harry decided to leave it until later.

Vault 532 was an entirely different manner. Yes, for some reason, there were some very large toothbrushes, but he found a pile of books – none of which looked like they had been touched for hundreds of years. One of those books was "Magic Most Fowle", by Pliny the Really Young, which appeared to describe ways to create and purify many dark artifacts through the use of chickens and other fowl.

There was one very interesting ritual, one that seemed to hold a lot of promise for their future goals, so one copying spell later, and one whooping trip later, they were walking back down Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore seemed to be under the impression that that was one clucking useful book.

Scene Change

That evening found Amelia wearing one of her nicest dresses – a form-fitting little black number that showed a lot of skin where it counted and hid just enough skin to not count as indecent. She even shone up her dress monocle, and let her hair down into pretty silver waves. She was dressed for bear.

Karkaroff wasn't much different – he had put on his best set of robes, and had slicked back his hair.

After a very nice meal in which they discussed many different things, they were finishing up their dessert.

Amelia placed her spoon in her mouth upside down and made eye contact, licking the spoon clean.

Karkaroff stared at her, entranced.

She took another lick.

Five minutes later, they flooed back to her apartment, and

CENSORED – THIS IS A T RATED FIC

Amelia sighed happily, letting the riding crop fall out of her hands as she blissfully closed her eyes, feeling more relaxed than she had in a very long time. This was a very good night.

Karkaroff didn't even try to get loose.

Scene Change

Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and Luna were all sprawled on the couch, Harry and Hermione sitting close to each other while Luna sat on Harry's lap and let her legs dangle over Hermione's knees. She was not asleep, but she was purring like a kitten as Harry played with her hair. Hermione was reading a book.

Neville came down, looking angry, and started stalking towards the door. Harry called out to him.

"Neville, come here."

He stopped, but made no move to go closer.

"Why?", he seethed.

Harry smiled. "Hermione needs someone to play with her hair."

Neville and Hermione both pinked. She lowered her head bashfully.

"Really, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, not meeting Neville's eyes.

One minute later, Hermione had awkwardly planted herself in Neville's lap, and she started purring as well.

It was a good evening. Amongst the four, all were involved in hair-playing, either as the player or the playee. And all were content.

A/N:

This one did not come easy. It ended up a bit more cracky than I wanted, but the crackiness does serve to advance the plot, even if a little, and, well, what the hell. It's not like I ever took this seriously anyway. If I get bad review for this one, well, I guess I had it coming. Who knows, I may end up rewriting it, or just removing it altogether, depending on how much guff I get for it.

There are a lot of different references to a lot of different things in this chapter – some actually rather obscure. If you don't understand something, a simple google search will explain all. Some of it you will likely find unexpectedly entertaining.

For those who might say that this is an M, well:

Omake:

Amelia grabbed Karkaroff's hand. She had taken him to her horse farm. Karkaroff, though, had never ridden a horse, so she made sure that he was secured into the saddle so he didn't hurt himself. She smacked the horse on the rump, and like a good horse, it sauntered away. Karkaroff was a bit scared, but as he got into it, he found he was starting to enjoy it.

Amelia sighed happily, letting the riding crop fall out of her hands as she blissfully closed her eyes, feeling more relaxed than she had in a very long time. This was a very good night.

Karkaroff didn't even try to get loose.

End Omake

Plausible deniability is a great thing, ain't it?

Read? Like? Review.

Read? Don't Like? Not surprised.


	14. No! That's entirely too silly!

Disclaimer. No. No. Deal with it.

Other disclaimer: *in the voice of Graham Chapman's Colonel Character* This chapter contains unusual levels of silliness, even for this story. Carry on.

The next few days were actually comparatively uneventful. The ComposerBirds kept chirping, chortling, singing, and fighting, while still united in purpose as to keeping tabs on what Ol' Voldie was up to. Their plan hit a snag very quickly, because, as it turns out, when the CageBird came back, he had a lot to say, but no way to actually say it. However, one little known fact about Composer Birds is that they can morph into other birds (there are only a limited number of ComposerBirds, and many different composers), so the CageBird turned into a RapperBird and rapped the whole thing out.

A bird wearing hammer pants and a gigantic clock around its neck is a sight to behold.

We shall leave a description of what the SchickeleBird did until later, as it is rather too silly.

But there wasn't much for the CageBird turned RapperBird to say. Voldie just went nuts and fired the cruciatus curse against everything that moved, and then sulked for a while. The CageBird had to leave in disgust when Petter started cooing and saying "There, there" - and earned a crucio for his efforts.

There was a minor confrontation between Harry and Draco as well. Draco seemed inclined to blame Harry for what had happened to his father, but Harry said, quite rightly, actually, that he had absolutely nothing at all to do with it. He wasn't even all that sure what had happened himself. One minute Barty Crouch Jr. was caught, no better than a muggle, and the next minute Amelia Bones had gone absolutely bonkers, arrested all of the death eaters, and wizarding society was forever changed.

Harry was actually perfectly fine with that, by the way. It not only gave him a perfect out when confronted by the family of death eaters (though in some cases it may not matter as they are rather a fractious lot) but it meant that things were finally happening in the wizarding world that he was not actually a part of, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Draco was still seething, but he had taken the lesson to heart, as he was now the actual heir of the Malfoy estate, and even though disowning was no longer a possibility, he realized that he needed to think before he acted – the situation between the Malfoys and Potters was already pretty bad, why make it worse? So after judging that Harry was probably telling the truth, he went back to his table and was not heard from again for a while.

Harry still had not decided whether he was going to continue participating in the tournament. On the one hand, he thought that with his performance in the first task, he had every right to be there, but on the other hand, he just wasn't sure it was worth the effort. It also was not common knowledge that he no longer had to perform (though the clues were there if you chose to examine them – most in the wizarding world couldn't logic their way out of a paper bag) and he wasn't sure that he wanted that bit of information to get out so easily. His golden egg was sitting untouched in his trunk – after attempting to open it and hearing a screeching sound like a televangelist's wife trying to sing a gospel song, he decided to leave it for the time being.

Neville and Hermione seemed to be growing much closer. They could be seen holding hands when walking down the hallway, cuddling in the common room after hours, and basically being sickeningly sweet enough that even Ron noticed. Which didn't seem to be leading to anything good, but Ron was keeping it to himself for now.

Harry was having similar problems with Ginny, who was giving him the stinkeye every time she saw him cuddling with Luna – which was often. But since Ginny and Luna did used to play together when they were young children, Ginny was inclined to be at least a little forgiving.

Luna was... well... being Luna. She showed absolutely no interest or desire whatsoever to bringing their relationship to any kind of higher level physically (and Harry would not have anyway, but Luna's disinterest made it a moot point) but she seemed to never be able to get enough of hugging, cuddling, and even a little chaste kissing. Harry found that she was just as excited to give as to receive, and more than once found himself drifting away to sleep with his head on her lap as she played with his hair. She assured him that she would be interested in more in time, but she was still young, and was just happy with what she had. Harry didn't mind though, as physical affection was something he had had absolutely none of after his first birthday, and he was frankly so starved for it he could lay there with his head on her lap for hours – and she was completely content to allow him to do so.

Harry was actually rather relieved with her disinterest, because truth be told, he was too young as well. Though he was looking forward to someday exploring the forbidden fruit of her womanhood.

Someday, though. Not now.

That did not mean he didn't enjoy what they did have together. Sometimes they would be found cuddling on the common room sofa, talking quietly about things that were not for the ears of others. Luna started to tell him about her childhood. Sometimes Harry had to wipe a tear or two away because she would get emotional talking about her mother. And as for Harry, he was still having a very hard time talking about the Dursleys, but that was OK. Luna was very patient.

Speaking of the Dursleys...

Amelia had found out something very interesting when doing a more thorough interrogation of Snape. It turned out that he had been sent every year to look in on the Dursleys, and make sure that Harry was well treated.

It also turned out that even though he did come see how Harry was treated every year, he didn't bother to report it to Dumbledore. In fact, he reported back that everything was just fine. This had two effects: It told the Dursleys that they could do what they wanted without the interference of any "freaks", and it also let Dumbledore to believe that things were far better than they were.

So Amelia decided to pay a visit to the Dursleys.

She put on her best muggle businesswear, and walked up to the door of Number 4 Privet Drive. She knocked.

The door opened, and a thin, horse-faced woman was standing there.

"Can I help you?", she said primly.

"My name is Amelia Bones, and I am from the child welfare service, do you mind if I come in?"

"What is this about?", Petunia said with pursed lips.

"I'd rather discuss this inside, unless you'd like for the neighbors to watch and for me to speak VERY LOUDLY."

Amelia didn't miss a trick. With that, after a furtive glance left and right, she was invited straight in.

She immediately saw a cupboard under the stairs with a lock on the outside.

"I'd like to discuss your nephew, Harry Potter."

Petunia carefully schooled her face, but Amelia did not miss the flash of hatred.

"What do you need to know?", Petunia asked with a tight voice.

"Could you show me his room?"

"Certainly", Petunia said, and brought her upstairs. There was a door with multiple locks on the outside, and a cat flap. Petunia did not show that room, instead she showed a room that looked well lived in, with a lot of broken toys.

"This is his room? Why is there a sign on the outside that says "Dudley"?

Petunia started to sweat. "Er, because..."

Before Petunia could stop her, Amelia opened the other door, and saw a room with broken furniture and a bed in terrible shape. It reeked.

"Whose room is this?"

Petunia hemmed and hawed.. "Well, er..."

Vernon came out of their bedroom. "What's wrong, Pet? Who is this?"

"This is Amelia Bones from the child welfare services."

"Now see here!", Vernon said forcefully. "We gave that boy food and a place to live!"

Amelia smiled, that same predatory smile that had put the fear into death eaters.

"How did you know which boy I was here about, Mr. Dursley?"

Vernon spluttered. "Well, I... er..."

Amelia turned on her heel and went downstairs, Vernon and Petunia following. Before they could stop her, she opened the cupboard under the stairs. She found a cot that had dried blood on it, and it also reeked. She turned around, just as Vernon's fist connected with her head.

She went down, out cold.

And her emergency portkey triggered.

And then there were two, very angry and frightened, muggles.

Five minutes later, five aurors stormed Number 4, Privet Drive.

And then there were no muggles.

Dudley came back a little while later. "Mum? Dad?", he said, rather fearfully, as the house was in disarray.

No one answered.

An Auror appeared, grabbed Dudley, and they disappeared.

There were no muggles again.

Scene Change

In the head office of a large retail chain, in an office tower somewhere in the United States, the CEO sat at his desk reading reports. He went through them one by one.

"mutter mutter stock prices mutter mutter stores offline mutter mutter what the?", he said, eruditely. His assistant sat in a chair across from him, notepad ready.

"mutter mutter"..., she said.

"No no, don't take this down", he said, muttering to himself. "Mutter mutter I have a report here that one of my employees has been writing fanfiction. Apparently, something mutter mutter called 'The Goblet's Revenge'".

She nodded.

"Mutter mutter composerbirds mutter mutter Electricbeard Viking Hagrid mutter mutter you can't handle the... WHAT IS THIS SHIT?", he said, dramatically smacking the pages down for emphasis. "MUTTER MUTTER WHAT ARE WE PAYING THIS GUY FOR?"

"Um, sir, according to our reports, he's only doing this on his off time, which is why he hasn't released a chapter in a couple of months. He's been faithfully programming stuff that helps us..."

"mutter mutter okay, good point. Keep an eye on him, Smithers."

She nodded.

"Now mutter mutter about these widgets..."

Scene Change

Meanwhile, in the offices of a seminary somewhere in the US, the president was having a similar conversation.

"Mutter mutter Jesus mutter mutter gotta preach mutter mutter what the?", he asked, just as eruditely.

His assistant spoke up. "We have reports that one of our students has been writing a fanfiction called 'The Goblet's Revenge."

"Mutter mutter I see. Well, it's kinda dumb, but there's nothing theologically wrong with it, and I can't very well get upset about what he does when he's not seminarying, so... heh... hehe... Electricbeard Viking Hagrid... hehe..." He fell off the chair laughing.

His assistant helped him up.

"Well, I guess I understand, especially with the above section with the retail mutter mutter CEO why he hasn't updated in a while. But check his tests anyway. Make it so, Smithers!"

"Aye aye sir... holy!", she said, and sauntered out of the room.

"Now, mutter mutter, let me see. Hmm, that's a good book. How many angels CAN dance on the end of a pin?"

A/N

I've had this chapter half written for about two months now, and instead of being a jerk and holding it back until it's perfect, I'm just going to release it. The last two scenes are humorous renditions of why I did not update sooner.

I converted to full time from contractor at my work, and I've also been doing some seminary classes that has been sucking a lot of time. I also had to go to a conference last week for several days, and, well, it's been tough finding much time for anything. And this hasn't, obviously, been my highest priority.

All that said, I did not forget, and here's proof.

For what it's worth, the last two scenes are canon, though what I'll *do* with that is a matter of some conjecture. I know the president of the seminary personally, I hope he'd find it funny. :-)

I actually think this story only has a few more chapters left in it... I think I know how it's going to end now. Though a sequel wouldn't be out of the question. I know this isn't the best chapter, but I hope you find it amusing anyway. Till later, ta.


	15. Fawkes To The Rescue!

Disclaimer: I'd like to register a complaint, about this story which I used not 'alf an 'our ago from this very Rowling...

One day, not too far off from the last chapter, a ComposerBird had an idea.

She flew over to all the other ComposerBirds, and after they chattered and sang and raised a general rucks (to which Hagrid threw something out of his door again, yelling "Ruddy birds!"), they came to a conclusion. They were going to end this once and for all.

A few moments later, a contingent of about a hundred ComposerBirds flew towards the office of the Headmaster, who was out.

The resident pervert, Fawkes himself, was not. He was sitting on his perch, half asleep, muttering something in phoenix language resembling "Oh yeah, strut your stuff... whoo whoo nice cloaca!"

He opened one eye.

He saw about a hundred ComposerBirds staring at him.

You would not think a phoenix could leer, but Fawkes leered.

The ComposerBirds, as one, turned around and raised their tails, exposing all of their birdie goodies.

Fawkes licked his beak.

And, as one, every ComposerBird, in a feat of musicality rarely seen before then, turned around and went into a perfect rendition of Janet Jackson's "What Have you Done for me Lately?"

Fawkes paused and cocked his head.

One brave ComposerBird strutted forward, as temptingly as a bird could, and stared right in Fawkes' eyes.

Fawkes nodded. And flamed out.

The ComposerBirds turned around, and as one, flew out into the sunlight. Operation "Get Fawkes To Do Our Dirty Work" was in full swing.

Scene Change

Fawkes flashed into Griffindor Tower and grabbed Harry, who was currently in the lap of Lunaxury. He flamed out. Luna smiled. She knew something he didn't. But she was sad to have him gone. Harry was warm.

Harry and Fawkes flashed into being in an open field, near a cabe. There were wildflowers everywhere, and the sound of the sea was in the distance. And, right in front of them, was a sleeping dragon. One of the dragon's eyes opened.

"Harry?", she said, surprised.

Harry shrugged. "It's me, Asperanth. Though I don't know what I'm doing here. This bloody flaming turkey took me here with no warning whatsoever."

Asperanth chuckled. "So I see, young two-legs. Let us see what your, as you say, 'flaming turkey' wants. His kind are very smart."

They locked eyes. Asperanth's eyes widened. Fawkes leered. Asperanth blew fire at Fawkes. Fawkes jumped up and jeered.

"Well, two-legs, it seems that other than a rather indecent proposal involving him, me, and those huge chains, your roast bird over there" - she glared at Fawkes - "your little friend here seems to want to get rid of something that's been causing you problems for a long time. I'm in, young two-legs. Hop on."

She pulled herself to a sitting position and positioned herself in such a way that Harry could climb onto her. He grabbed onto her scales with everything he could.

"Off we go!", she almost squealed, and with one huge flap of her wings, they were off.

Scene Change

Fawkes flamed into the ministry of Magic and grabbed Amelia from her office. He deposited her in the death chamber. He looked at her as if to say "wait here and watch this". Then he flamed out.

Fawkes flamed into the Headmaster's office and grabbed Dumbledore. He deposited him into the death chamber, gave Dumbledore the same look, and flamed out.

Dumbledore and Amelia exchanged glances. "What the-", Amelia said, nonplussed.

Dumbledore just chuckled. "Usually, my dear Amelia, when Phoenixes 'kidnap' someone, as it were, they usually have a very good reason. I suggest we wait here and watch the show."

He conjured two chairs and some light refreshments. Amelia reluctantly sat down.

"It won't be long, Amelia. I'm sure of it". He sat back, munching contentedly at a sandwich, and listened to the faint symphony of voices coming from the veil.

Scene Change

Not long after, the dragon, along with Harry (who was under his invisibility cloak, which Fawkes brought him), came crashing through the doors of Gringotts at high speed. Goblins scattered everywhere as Asperanth roasted every one in her sights.

"Ugly little blighters", Asperanth said, bitterly.

They flew deeper into the catacombs. They came up upon a huge dragon, who appeared to want to cause them great fire-based harm, until it saw Harry. Then it laid down and put its snout between its forelegs. Asperanth chuckled.

"Mark of the Dragon", she said. "He knows one of his own. Besides, the Goblins don't treat him well" Harry nodded, sadly. She grinned. "I'll come back for him, young one."

They came to one particular vault, and Asperanth blew the hottest flame she could at the door until it literally melted. They then flew through the molten hole, completely ignoring the alarms and roasting the Goblins that showed up. She went to one wall where there was a cup.

"Take the cup, young one. Do not touch it with your bare hands."

Harry did as he was told, and roasted more Goblins on the way out. They then made their way on to the Ministry of Magic. Harry got off and thanked Asperanth for the most fun he'd had in a long time.

He then, on Asperanth's instructions, made his way down to the death chamber.

Scene Change

Harry, Dumbledore, and Amelia looked in abject astonishment as a small pile of trinkets started appearing in front of them, as Fawkes flashed in and flashed out. There was a ring, a cup, an old, ruined diary, a tiara, and a locket. Fawkes observed them with a very birdlike grin, then grabbed them with his beak and threw them, one by one, through the veil. They came out the other end, but without the horrible aura that they had previously.

Dumbledore now was staring with abject shock. "Did you just-"

Fawkes just trilled, and flashed out again.

Scene Change

Peter Pettigrew was having a bad day. Changing Voldemort's diapers was never, ever fun. Especially considering that snake venom and diapers did not mix very well.

It was about to get far worse.

Fawkes flashed in, grabbed Voldemort's wand, and disappeared.

He flashed in again, grabbed Pettigrew's wand, and disappeared.

He flashed in a third time, grabbed Pettigrew, and disappeared.

Then, before Voldemort could even process what was happening, he flashed in a fourth and final time, grabbed him too, and disappeared.

Scene Change

Dumbledore could not get up from his chair if he wanted to. First Fawkes flashed in with a snake, made sure Amelia saw it clearly, and then threw it right through the veil.

Then he flashed in with a struggling Pettigrew, whom he also made sure Amelia saw clearly, and threw him through the veil as well.

Then he flashed in with Voldemort, who screamed "Unhand me you -", but never finished his thought as he flew through the veil as well.

The veil burped.

Fawkes flew down, landed on the floor, flapped his wings, and preened. He stared at both Dumbledore and Amelia, flipped his wings in a vey obvious "Well, that's done", gesture, and flashed out.

Dumbledore stared at Amelia in shock.

Amelia fainted.

The world was rid of Voldemort for good.

Scene Change

Fawkes flashed into the crowd of ComposerBirds, with a very satisfied look on his face. He had a burden in his talons. It was a small ComposerBird.

It could barely move.

Its eyes were half-lidded, it was trembling like it was cold, and it just tweeted faint fragments of songs. Finally it flopped over, feet up in the air, fast asleep.

Fawkes trilled happily, and flashed out.

Several ComposerBirds tended her. The others began preparations. Her sacrifice must be honored.

Scene Change

All of the ComposerBirds were standing on a flat plain. There were thousands of them, all in formation, in two rows, leaving a wide aisle in between. Several WilliamsBirds started blasting the opening notes to the "Throne Room" theme, while a single, solitary ComposerBird waddled down the aisle of birds, looking to the left and to the right. All of the birds lifted a wing at once, and she walked to the front of the aisle, where, on a raised credenza, stood the Queen of the ComposerBirds.

The LatifahBird smiled, and put a small medal around the other bird's neck.

She bowed.

The LatifahBird bowed back, gratefully.

Fawkes flashed in and grabbed the small bird again.

The small bird squawked in a way that both implied "Oh no not again" and "Take me you red fiery monster!"

All of the other birds clapped. Which, because they were birds, sounded much like the rustling of fabric.

The WilliamsBirds morphed into the "End Theme".

And they lived happily ever after. Except for the small bird Fawkes abducted, who ended up shagged out after a prolonged squawk. But even she was having the time of her life.

Scene Change

"And now", Dark Lord Springer said into his microphone, "We have a very odd case."

In three chairs were the ugliest examples of humanity one had ever seen. The mustachioed man looked like a whale, wearing nothing but a diaper and leather straps in a criss-cross shape over his bulbous belly. The woman, who was horse-faced and thin, stared moresely at the audience. Her leather corset was far, far too tight for her liking, and what was the deal with all that latex? And there was a whale of a boy, as well, who wore a buttown-down shirt, suspenders, coke bottle glasses, pants that were too short, and a pocket protector.

"And here we have the Dursleys, from 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. Surely the most normal people you've ever seen in your life!"

The audience laughed.

Amelia smiled to herself. You could put anyone in jail. You could send anyone to New Cincinnati. You could even kill them. But she knew exactly where to hit the Dursleys.

Their lives would never, ever be normal again.

Though Petunia did rather seem to be enjoying her outfit a bit too much.

Scene Change

Later that evening, after everyone had gone back to their respective places of residence, Harry was cuddling with Luna, and Hermione was lying on the couch with her legs over both of them, reading a book.

Luna smiled at Harry while she played with his hair.

"Harry Potter, are you glad he is gone?"

Harry thought for a bit.

"I am", he said, and for the first time, he smiled. Truly smiled. And he reached over, pulled her face to him, and snogged her.

He released her after a minute or two, and she did not move. She just stared into his eyes, lips slightly parted, breathing fast, and thoroughly enjoying herself. He nodded.

"I am." He said. And dove right back in. She did not resist.

And nothing need more be said.

A/N

The idea for how to end this story came to me in a flash a few days ago. What if everything just hits Voldemort all at once? And what if the reason for Fawkes doing it was just to get laid? So it happened that way.

There are unresolved plot points. I left it that way on purpose. A sequel is not out of the question. But I thought this would be a good way to end it.

I hope you enjoyed the ride. Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites. I appreciated each and every one. Even the rude guest reviews at least took the time to leave one.

I had several favorite review, but I think my all time favorite was the one that just said something like "around chapter five, you just said f*** it"... yep. I sure did.

No regrets.

Thank you all.


End file.
